


An Empty Glass

by QueenOfTheDreamers (QueenOfDreamers)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Time Travel, F/M, Time Travel, Time Travel Fix-It
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-26
Updated: 2018-09-18
Packaged: 2019-07-02 16:43:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 28
Words: 55,669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15800541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenOfDreamers/pseuds/QueenOfTheDreamers
Summary: Bellatrix falls asleep in Azkaban Prison in 1982 and wakes up in the Slytherin girls' dormitory in 1944. Convinced that the Universe has sent her to warn her lord and master of the doom in his future, Bellatrix intersects with Tom Riddle. But when she grows too comfortable with her new existence, Lord Voldemort's path to power warps and shifts. Time Travel.





	1. Chapter 1

_November 1982_

_Azkaban Prison_

Bellatrix Lestrange spooned gruel into her mouth and stared out the window through the bars. She eyed the Dementor who was floating in the grey sky outside Azkaban, and she sighed. Let them try to take her soul, she thought. She would never surrender. She would never give up herself, for if she did, she'd be giving up on  _him_ , on the Dark Lord, and she would never give up on him.

He was out there somewhere. Bellatrix set down her wooden bowl, listening to it scrape on the stone floor of the cell. She set her spoon into the bowl and gripped the bars of the window, her eyes locking onto the Dementor. Somewhere out in that great wide world was her master. Her lord and master was not dead. She could never believe such a thing. He was gone, but never forgotten, never given up upon. So many had forsaken him, but not Bellatrix. She would never, ever stop searching. Someday, she'd escape this prison, she thought, and she'd find him. She'd bring her master back to life. Somehow. Someday.

She went over to her straw-filled cot on the ground and lay down, feeling weak and weary after six weeks' imprisonment. She was hungry, but not for more gruel. She watched as a rat scurried across the floor and approached her bowl of food. She let the rat nibble away. She didn't care anymore about things like that. All that mattered was that someday she'd help her master come back.

Bellatrix lay her head down upon the mattress, feeling straw poke through the threadbare fabric and jab at her cheek. She stared at the rat and the bowl until the rat gave up and ran away into a very small hole in the wall. Bellatrix wondered if someday she could make that hole bigger and escape. Someday. Somehow.

She shut her eyes and dreamed of him. She dreamed of her master, of Lord Voldemort. She dreamed of how he used to sit in meetings and command the room with the quietest voice. She dreamed of him in battle, dueling Dumbledore and Moody and the others. She dreamed of him in his office when she'd go alone to meet with him, when he'd speak quietly and almost gently to her. She dreamed of him, and then she was lost to a great vast blackness.

And when she opened her eyes, she was somewhere else entirely.

She was in a bed, more specifically. Bellatrix thought for certain she must still be dreaming. She sat up slowly, realised she was in a nightgown, and pulled back the emerald green curtains of the bed in which she'd been lying. She rose slowly from the bed, thinking this was a very nice dream.

"Who are you?" asked a voice, and Bellatrix jolted. Suddenly she realised she was awake. She knew so, for she'd backed into the corner of the bed and hurt herself, and she'd felt the pain. She looked up to see a very familiar young witch standing before her. Her mother - but younger. Bellatrix scowled and asked carefully,

"D-Druella?"

"Who are you?" the witch asked again, more sharply this time. "What are you doing in our dormitory?"

"Dormitory?" Bellatrix looked around. Yes. This was a Slytherin girls' dormitory. Something was off about it, something she couldn't quite place, but it looked incredibly familiar now. Bellatrix stared at her mother, who looked to be about sixteen or seventeen, and she asked again,

"Druella?"

"How do you know my name?" Druella snapped, crossing her arms over her chest.

"What's going on? Who the blazes are you?" asked a blonde witch in curlers who came crawling out of another bed. Two more witches came out, and a veritable riot of questions broke out as everyone began asking who Bellatrix was and how she'd gotten into their dormitory.

"Wait," Bellatrix said, holding up her hands in a conciliatory gesture. "I'm not meant to be here. I'm meant to be in… in… Well, I fell asleep somewhere else."

"Where?" demanded the blonde witch, and Bellatrix hesitated.

"I can't really say. What month is it?"

"It's November," said the blonde witch. "November of 1944, of course."

"Did you say…" Bellatrix felt dizzy and leaned onto the bedpost behind her. She shook her head. "Nineteen forty… four… are you certain?"

"Pretty certain!" cried a pudgy brunette witch, putting her hands on her hips. "What, you fell asleep in some other time, is that what you're saying? That's impossible?"

"It's not impossible," said the blonde witch. "It's highly illegal, and it's incredibly dangerous, but it's not impossible."

"You seem like a bright witch," said Bellatrix to the blonde girl. "What are you called?"

"Ivy Greengrass," said the witch, and Bellatrix's heart sank. Her mother had often spoken of a girl called Ivy, who had been her classmate, her school friend. Ivy had died when they were all twenty years old, apparently. Some rare genetic condition. This girl had only a few years to live. Bellatrix gulped and nodded.

"Well, Ivy, you're right, it would seem. I fell asleep in nineteen eighty-two, and I woke up in this bed."

There was a great clatter then as the girls in the Slytherin dormitory figured out that Bellatrix was a time-traveler from the future.

"We should get her to Professor Dippet at once!" said Druella, and Bellatrix tipped her head up.

"I'm not a threat, you know," she insisted, but Druella narrowed her eyes.

"We don't know anything about you. We don't even know your name."

"I'm called Bellatrix," she said, and Druella's face suddenly shifted oddly.

"Bellatrix," she repeated. "I always said that if I had a daughter, I'd call her that. Lovely name."

"Thank you," Bellatrix mumbled. She turned to Ivy Greengrass and said, "When I fell asleep, it was evening. Is it morning now?"

"Yes," Ivy said carefully. She turned to the other girls, looking concerned, and said, "We really ought to take her to Professor Dippet."

"Wait," Bellatrix said quickly, counting years in her head. Her parents had gone to school with… if it was nineteen forty-four, then… "Is Tom Riddle a student here?"

"How did you know that?" asked Ivy, looking suspicious, and Bellatrix nibbled her lip as she shrugged and asked,

"Don't you suspect that in the future, a great many people will know who Tom Riddle is?"

"I suppose so," said Ivy, and the plump brunette girl confirmed,

"He's Head Boy. Of course he's a student here."

"I need to speak with Tom Riddle, please," Bellatrix beseeched the girls. "Please. Please, it's urgent."

"I don't think that's a good idea," said Ivy, but Druella said softly,

"Perhaps we ought to let Tom have a look at her and see what he thinks is best to do next."

"Yes! Yes!" Bellatrix almost added,  _Mum_ , but she managed not to. She said quickly, "You should always do what Tom Riddle thinks is best!"

The others seemed very uneasy at that, but ten minutes later, all the girls were dressed, and Bellatrix was in a borrowed black dress that belonged to Druella Rosier. She walked in the middle of the pack of girls, an escorted prisoner, out to the Slytherin Common Room, and Ivy Greengrass went to the boys' dormitory and called in that they needed Tom Riddle immediately. Five minutes later, he came out in his school uniform, and Bellatrix almost lost consciousness.

He was indefensibly handsome at seventeen, with wavy black hair that was thick as you please. He had piercing dark eyes and a chiseled face, and his sharp features were accented by a slick smirk that seemed perpetually plastered upon his full lips. When he came walking out of the boys' dormitory, Tom Riddle eyed the pack of girls and said playfully,

"Ladies, it isn't even breakfast time; you must give me… Oh. Hello. Who are you?"

"Tom," said Ivy in a low voice, "This is Bellatrix. She woke up in our dormitory."

"She woke up in your dormitory," Tom repeated sounding a bit confused. Bellatrix tried to catch her breath. She couldn't seem to breathe, all of a sudden. She swallowed hard and finally spoke up.

"I fell asleep in Azkaban Prison in nineteen eighty-two," she said, and the girls all gasped as she revealed where she'd come from. Tom Riddle's dark eyes flashed, and he said in a menacing sort of voice,

"Ladies, if you will kindly give me a moment with Miss…"

"Madam," she corrected. "Madam Lestrange."

His eyes flashed again. "If you will kindly give me a moment to discuss things with Madam Lestrange, and we shall proceed from there."

He walked with her to a pair of wingback chairs facing one another, and the girls all retreated to their dormitory at Riddle's command. Tom sat facing Bellatrix, and she bowed her head. She shut her eyes and said sincerely,

"It is so good to see you again, even if it is in an altered state, Master."

"What did you say?" His voice was very quiet then. Bellatrix raised her eyes to him, and she told him honestly,

"Where I come from, you are the master, and I am the servant."

He was silent for a long moment, and then he said, "What an unexpected, and not at all unwelcome, thing for you to say. Nineteen eighty-two, you said."

"But, Master," Bellatrix whispered, "I was in prison because something awful had happened to you. I must have been sent back here to warn you. That must be why I'm here. You… there was a baby you were trying to kill, and the Killing Curse rebounded. You vanished into thin air. You disappeared."

"That's impossible," Tom said dismissively. "I have my… anyway, that doesn't explain why you were in prison."

Bellatrix pinched her lips and said, "When you disappeared, My Lord, many people gave up on you at once. But not me. I was determined to find you, to help bring you back. And I was interrogating people -"

"Torturing people," Tom said, "with the Cruciatus Curse." He narrowed his eyes, and Bellatrix nodded. Tom's brows went up. Bellatrix continued,

"We took it too far with some, and we got caught. We got thrown into Azkaban. But I screamed at them as they dragged me away to prison. I screamed at them that the Dark Lord would rise again. And last night, I fell asleep on my straw cot and I dreamed of you, Master. And then I awoke here. It cannot be an accident. I have been sent to warn you, to spare you the fate of destruction that unfolded for you."

"Bellatrix," Tom said very carefully, tenting his fingers. "You and I were quite close, it would seem."

Bellatrix felt her cheeks go warm. "Not so close as I might have liked, Master, but I served you with all my might."

"Much as I adore the honorifics, Bellatrix, I'm not sure the others are ready for them," he said gently. "Call me  _Tom_."

Bellatrix scoffed a little and shook her head. "I couldn't possibly…"

"I insist," he replied, and Bellatrix just nodded her assent. He asked her cautiously, "How old are you? Were you?"

"Thirty, Mast… erm… Tom." Bellatrix folded her hands in her lap anxiously, and Tom scowled.

"No," he said, "You're not a day over seventeen."

"I beg your pardon?" Bellatrix asked, and he took out his wand. He Conjured a mirror from thin air and handed it over to her, and Bellatrix gasped at her reflection. She had childlike features again, and there was a roundness to her cheeks that had given way in adulthood to a sharp gauntness. She had apparently moved back in age when she'd come through time and space. She was meant to stay, then, it seemed. She huffed a breath and handed the mirror back to Tom, impressed when he Vanished it nonverbally.

"Some force of the Universe sent you through time, space, and age to intersect with my path," Tom concluded. "That is very clear. And I do think I shall like having you around, Bellatrix. Now. As Head Boy, it is my duty to escort you, our time-traveling visitor, to the Headmaster. But don't worry. I'll make certain he lets you stay."

**Author's Note: Squeeeeee! Okay, I'm super excited about this one. This will be a novel-length Bellamort (Bellariddle?), which I haven't written in a while. I would be very grateful for your feedback on this. Thanks so much for reading.**


	2. Chapter 2

 

 

 

Professors Dippet and Dumbledore, as it happened, were remarkably unfazed by the actual notion that a human being would accidentally travel through time and space. Apparently, there were dozens of instances of it happening throughout history.

"But, my dear," said Albus Dumbledore where he stood beside Armando Dippet's desk, "by far the most important thing is that you simply  _live_  here. Try not to change anything as you knew it, or there may be catastrophic consequences. You see, the future is an uncertain thing, ever shifting, ever changing. What is past to you is future to us. You have already lived it, but to us, it is yet to be and may change. Your memories may become irrelevant, wiped out by decisions and shifts you do not intend on enacting. Do you understand?"

"So you have no intention on sending me back?" Bellatrix asked. Dumbledore and Dippet eyed one another, and Dippet said,

"To the best of our understanding, there is no way to  _safely_  send someone through decades of time and space, especially not forward. That degree of time travel typically happens on accident only. The will of the Universe… not the meddling of wizarding wands."

"So you're not sending me back," Bellatrix confirmed, and she suddenly realised she wasn't going back to a cell in Azkaban. Dumbledore asked her plainly,

"You were a Slytherin when you attended Hogwarts, Miss Lestrange?"

She didn't correct him about her being married. It would throw her mother off for her to go round with the Black surname, and it would be confusing for someone who appeared seventeen to be married. So she just nodded. Dumbledore sighed and suggested to Professor Dippet,

"Perhaps she ought to simply take the bed in which she awakened. I believe there was a spare in that dormitory. And she might simply take up the class schedule of the seventh-year Slytherins. No doubt she'll excel in her studies."

"I believe that is the best course of action," Dippet nodded. "My one rule, Miss Lestrange, is this. If any of your fellow students ask you questions about the future - say, for example,  _Will I be fat as a middle-aged witch?_  - you must not answer. You may reveal no details about the future which are not known in this time. You must simply blend in to the best of your ability. That is, to our working knowledge, the only way of coping with grave accidents such as these."

"One last thing, Miss Lestrange," said Albus Dumbledore, and he narrowed his eyes over his spectacles at her a little. "Why were you in Azkaban?"

Bellatrix was silent for a long moment, and Dippet looked very uneasy. Bellatrix opened her mouth, hesitated, threw up her Occlumency shields, and finally lied,

"I came from a time of war. I was on the losing side. I do not think it wise to give much more detail than that. I am not a criminal in the strictest sense of the word."

Dumbledore didn't look like he believed her. Not one bit. But Dippet, for his part, seemed mostly convinced, and he suggested,

"Perhaps we could make a loan to Miss Lestrange the same way we've done for our students raised in Muggle orphanages… so that she might send away to Madam Malkin's for robes and the like."

"I think a gift is more appropriate, given the extraordinary circumstances, Headmaster," Dumbledore murmured, still staring oddly at Bellatrix. She shifted where she sat and mumbled,

"Thank you."

An hour later, she was sitting in the Great Hall, having sent away by owl for supplies and robes. She sat with the girls in whose dormitory she'd awakened, and she learnt that their names were Druella, Ivy, Sutton, and Theodora. Bellatrix knew Sutton Crabbe and Theodora Avery by their married names and lives, and of course she knew her own mother. It was odd to be sitting across a table in the Great Hall from her own mum, and even more strange when Druella said to the other girls,

"I hope Cygnus asks me to the Autumn Ball."

"You know he will," said Sutton, the plump brunette girl, rolling her dark eyes. "He's mad for you."

Bellatrix stared down the table at where Tom Riddle was surrounded by a gang of Slytherin males, including one stringy young wizard she easily recognised as her own father. He was a year younger than her mother, she knew.

"He's a sixth-year," Bellatrix said quietly, and Druella demanded,

"How'd you know that?"

"He just looks like it," Bellatrix lied, and Druella tipped her head.

"How'd you know which one was Cygnus?"

Bellatrix's cheeks went hot, and she blinked. "Saw him staring at you a few times."

"She's observant, this one," said Theodora Avery, and she started peeling an orange as she said, "I hope Abraxas Malfoy asks me. He's so dreamy with that Quidditch body of his."

"Well, I hope Tom Riddle asks me," said Ivy haughtily. "He's the most handsome boy in the whole school."

"Are balls ordinary in this time?" Bellatrix asked, and the others frowned.

"What, you didn't have Autumn and Spring ball?" asked Theodora. Bellatrix just shook her head. She wondered why they'd done away with the dances.

"When is the ball?" asked Bellatrix nervously, and Sutton squealed a little.

"Oh! You need to get dress robes tout de suite, Bellatrix! You'll have to send away for them straight away. The ball's next weekend."

Bellatrix nodded. Suddenly four of the Slytherin boys rose up from where they were sitting with Tom Riddle, and Sutton muttered,

"Oh, no. Here they come. Here they come."

The girls all got asked to the ball, all except for Bellatrix. Druella got asked by Cygnus, who Conjured her roses in asking her. Sutton got asked by an awkward-looking boy that Bellatrix instantly recognised as her future husband - Druella's brother and Bellatrix's uncle, Jacob Rosier. Theodora got asked by her own cousin, Nikolas Avery, but she still said yes. And Ivy Greengrass got asked by Abraxas Malfoy, which seemed to irk Theodora. By the time the boys left, everyone was quite breathless. Bellatrix just stared, thinking how odd it was to see her parents' generation lost in a swell of teenaged romantic entanglements.

"So," Bellatrix began, "What are you all wearing to the ball?"

"Pardon me, ladies."

Bellatrix turned her face and let out a rady ungraceful noise as she looked up and saw Tom Riddle standing right behind her. Her lord and master. She resisted the urge to fly to her feet and bow her head. She could tell he knew she wanted to do it. His smirk grew; he liked the way her instinct was to defer to his authority. Everyone at the table went silent as Tom folded his hands before him and said very crisply,

"Miss Lestrange, it would be my honour to welcome you to our… time and place… by escorting you to the Autumn Ball. Will you accompany me?"

"Catch me; I'm swooning," whispered Druella, and for a long moment, Bellatrix couldn't answer. She just stared at him and nodded, and she finally squeaked out,

"Yes, please."

He smiled warmly. "Thank you. I shall meet you in the Common Room at seven the night of the ball."

He walked away, his robe billowing behind him. Bellatrix flicked her eyes up to the Head Table to see a very concerned-looking Albus Dumbledore eyeing Tom Riddle as he sat back down. She returned her own eyes to the Slytherin girls' table, where the others were scoffing and laughing in utter disbelief.

"I'm so jealous!" Ivy growled playfully. "He's the most desirable boy in the school!"

"He just wants to go with the time traveling girl," Bellatrix said, waving her hand dismissively, but her insides were screaming with joy. Her lord and master -  _Lord Voldemort -_ had just asked her to go to a ball with him. She would get to dance with him. With  _him_! She wanted to fly up from the table and twirl around in circles and sing. Instead she just let out a shaking sigh and sipped her pumpkin juice, and she nodded.

"Definitely need to get some good dress robes."

* * *

"Bellatrix."

She whirled around as she packed up her Potions supplies. They'd just finished brewing up a Nonemesis Potion, which Bellatrix had probably done a dozen times in her life and could do in her sleep. She'd gotten full marks from Slughorn, of course, and he'd asked her and Tom Riddle to stay after lessons for a brief meeting. Now Bellatrix placed her instruments into their leather sleeve, looked around to be certain no one was listening, and murmured,

"Hello, My Lord."

"You call me that so easily," Tom whispered back. "You must have made quite the habit of doing so."

"I could never call you anything but  _My Lord_ and  _Master_ ," Bellatrix told him, wrapping up her leather sleeve of supplies and tying it together. She tucked it into her rucksack and stared into his dark eyes. She felt compelled to inform him, "Sometimes, you'd call me  _Bella_ , and it would make my day."

"You liked that. When I called you  _Bella_." Tom seemed to take note of this, to file it away, and he nodded. He licked his lip and asked, "What sort of soldiering were you doing? You said you were fighting. A war. Serving me as a soldier. What did you mean?"

"You gained strength. Enough to wage war against your enemies," Bellatrix whispered, flicking her eyes about. "There were battles - a dozen against a dozen, sometimes more, sometimes fewer. You trained me in Occlumency and advanced duelling. I was at your side in every battle. Master."

Tom pinched his lips, and his cheeks went a little pink. He cleared his throat and asked cautiously,

"Were we… were you and I…?"

Bellatrix gasped and shook her head. Intimate? Were they intimate? No. No, they never had been. Oh, how she'd always wished they had been, but… no. Her face went very hot, and she told him,

"You touched my cheek one time. That's… that would be the extent of it."

"I see," Tom said, and suddenly Slughorn said in a booming voice from the front of the classroom,

"All right, you two. Now! Seeing as how both of you have utterly mastered any curriculum Hogwarts would be able to throw at you, I wish to expand and extend your studies. Yes, yes. That's right. I wish to create an Advanced Potions Course just for the two of you! What do you say?"

Tom smiled at Bellatrix and then grinned at Slughorn.

"I'd be grateful for more difficult work, Professor."

"I'd certainly be amenable, sir," said Bellatrix. She hadn't been to school in years, and she was rusty at studying, but being seventeen again felt good, and it felt good to be  _good_  at being seventeen. Yes, she would gladly accept an advanced potions course from Slughorn. They spent the next half hour working out logistics - scheduling and the like - and then Slughorn sent them on their way. Out in the corridor, Tom said to Bellatrix,

"I am very glad that the Universe decided you needed to cross paths with me here, Bella."

She shivered at the sound of his young, smooth voice using her shortened name. She smiled at him and shook her head, and she said,

"You know I like when you say it; that's why you said it."

"Of course." He smirked and shrugged. "What colour are you wearing to the ball?"

"Black," Bellatrix laughed. "I always wear black."

"Do you?" Tom flicked his eyes up and down her Slytherin uniform, and she rolled her eyes, something she never would have done before the older version of him. She amended,

"When I have my choice, I wear black."

"I see." Tom nodded. "Well, that makes my job easier. Have you a favourite flower?"

Bellatrix's heart hammered in her chest. A favourite flower? She blinked back tears and whispered,

"Deep, erm… deep red roses."

He curled up his lips and pulled out his wand. He shut his eyes and very carefully Conjured a flower in the air. It was a rose so deeply red it was almost black, and it floated in the air until Tom plucked it with his fingers. He held it out to Bellatrix and asked,

"Will a corsage of these work with your dress robes, then?"

"Master." Bellatrix simply could not breathe. She took the rose and studied it, and when she raised her eyes again, she could not keep from crying. "I am not worthy of these attentions from you."

"No? It sounds as though your devotion has always been absolute. I will need people like that close to me," Tom said. "I will need devotion. Will you continue to give it?"

"Of course! Always!" Bellatrix clutched the deep red rose to her chest and nodded frantically. "My Lord, I will always, always be your most ardent servant. I have been since I was sixteen years old and I went to prison because I refused to forsake you. Please, I beg you, allow me to serve you here the way I served you in my own time."

"Of course," Tom said, looking quite content indeed. "Of course you may serve me, Bellatrix. But first… first you must dance with me."

Bellatrix shut her eyes, and then she gasped, for she felt a hand cupping her jaw. When she opened her eyes, he was holding her face, staring into her eyes and nodding. He leaned down and pressed his lips against her forehead, and then he walked very quickly away. Bellatrix was left alone in the corridor, wheezing from the exertion of merely staying standing, in shock that her master had just deigned to give her a kiss.

**Author's Note: I do hope others are enjoying this idea as much as I'm loving writing it. If you get a chance, PLEASE do leave a quick review. I really would be very grateful for your thoughts. Thank you!**


	3. Chapter 3

"Ahhh! That owl has a really big parcel! Duck!" Sutton put her hands over her head at breakfast, and Bellatrix managed to catch the package that the owl dropped.

"What is it?" asked Ivy, and Bellatrix said,

"Well, I certainly hope it's my dress robes. I sent a letter away with a specific description of the gown I wanted. I hope they got it right."

"I can't wait to see," said Druella, and Bellatrix felt an incredibly strong urge to tell her that they were mother and daughter. She pinched her lips and nodded. She wanted to tell Druella about Andromeda and Narcissa. But if she did that, she might ruin everything. There might be no Cissy if Bellatrix told Druella about her now. That was what Dippet had meant.

"Who's excited for Defence Against the Dark Arts today?" asked Theodora sarcastically. "We have duelling practise. I despise duelling."

"Duelling?" Bellatrix perked up. She smiled a little and confessed, "I  _love_  duelling."

"Do you? Were you in Duelling Club in your time?" asked Druella, and Bellatrix shook her head as she said,

"There was only a Duelling Club one year, my first year and then Dumble… erm… they got rid of it. People were going to the Hospital Wing too often. So it was only what we learnt in class. It's a lost art, truly."

"Well, maybe you can partner up with Tom Riddle, then," suggested Ivy. "He loves duelling, too, and nobody can ever match him or even come close. You're more than welcome to try and take him on."

"You know what happened, don't you?" asked Druella in a low voice. "Professor Merrythought was our Defence teacher until this year. She retired because of what happened with the monster and the girl who died."

"I've heard about that," Bellatrix breathed. "Wasn't Hagrid expelled for it?"

"Yes." Druella frowned, seeming uneasy that Bellatrix knew exactly what she was talking about. Her face was so familiar to Bellatrix, and Bellatrix nibbled her lip.

"Who's the teacher now?" she asked, and Sutton chimed in,

"Aoife Walsh. She took a break from her Auror work at Professor Dumbledore's begging to come work here. She's a good teacher, but who knows how long she'll stay? Anyway, all, we should get to lessons."

Classroom 3C looked almost exactly the same in 1944 as it would look during Bellatrix's time at Hogwarts decades later. Bellatrix took a desk well before lessons began, and Tom Riddle came striding up to her and said,

"May I speak to you for a moment?"

"Of course," she said, resisting the urge to add,  _Master_. She rose and hurried with him to the corner of the room, and Tom told her in a low voice,

"Something has been bothering me. The maths. You said you were thirty in nineteen eighty-two. I was born in nineteen twenty-six. That makes me at least twenty-five years older than you. Is that right?"

"Yes, that's correct," Bellatrix replied, and he glanced around the room as he wondered aloud,

"How many of these Slytherins did you know as their older selves?"

Bellatrix's cheeks went warm, and she nodded. "Almost all of them. Especially my parents."

"Ah," said Tom. "And they are?"

Bellatrix hesitated. But this was her lord and master. She had to tell him everything. She finally admitted,

"Druella and Cygnus Black are my parents, My Lord."

He raised his eyebrows and tipped his head. "Then it would seem Cygnus' pursuit of Druella is hardly for naught."

"Abraxas Malfoy let you use Malfoy Manor as headquarters," Bellatrix whispered, and Voldemort smiled a little at her.

"Thank you, Miss Lestrange. Who was your husband, by the way?"

"Rodolphus," said Bellatrix at once. "Rudy's son."

"Rudy." Tom turned to look at his lackey, the elder Lestrange, and he guffawed a bit. "Rudy's your father-in-law?"

"And a Death Eater," Bellatrix murmured, and suddenly Tom's face snapped back to Bellatrix, looking awfully serious.

"What did you say?"

Bellatrix's face went warm. "Death Eaters. That's what you called us. And you…"

She approached him, getting very near, so near she could smell fresh summer rain on him, and she peeled back her left sleeve to show him her pink dormant Dark Mark.

"They're all connected, and they all go black when you call us."

"Dark Marks. It was just an idea," whispered Tom, and suddenly his eyes looked a little wet. Bellatrix yanked down her sleeve and shook her head.

"Not an idea, Master. You branded me in 1968, on my seventeenth birthday."

"And I would have been forty-one then," Tom mused. Bellatrix nodded and said,

"I suppose I'm eighteen here. My birthday is in September. I must be eighteen, if I'm a seventh-year."

"You're very young; you're certainly not thirty," he scoffed, and then his face got serious as he contemplated, "You probably looked just like this when I put that Mark on you."

"Yes. I suppose I did," Bellatrix agreed, and Voldemort seemed very affected by that for some reason. An Irish voice from the front of the classroom called out,

"Right, right. Take your seats, then. Let's go on and begin, shall we?"

"Bye, Master," Bellatrix said, bowing her head, and he seemed like he wanted to touch her. He nodded and walked off, saying over his shoulder,

"Duel me."

"What were you two talking about?" hissed Druella, for she'd taken the seat beside Bellatrix's bag. Bellatrix was embarrassed to discuss any such thing with her own mother, so she just shrugged and said, not dishonestly,

"We did mention that you and Cygnus are grand together."

"We are?" Druella seemed excited about that. She pushed her black waves from her face, and Bellatrix smiled a little. She turned her face up to the front of the classroom, up to where Aoife Walsh was instructing the class on the rules of today's duelling practise.

"No Unforgivables, obviously," she said to laughter, but Bellatrix realised she'd have to remember this. She wondered just how well the wand she'd been given in this time would work with duelling. It was a rickety-looking hickory confection, a little unstable, but powerful. Aoife Walsh reminded them that in class they needed to cast one spell each and give their opponent time to recover before casting another. Hexes and Jinxes only, and nothing that would send anyone to the Hospital Wing, she said. Then she told them to pair up and stand on opposite sides of the room, and she Banished the desks to the perimeter.

Tom Riddle immediately moved to stand opposite Bellatrix. He'd taught her everything she knew about fighting, about battle. Bellatrix would never defeat him. But she also knew that he'd learnt much of his own combat skill during time on the Continent after his schooling. Perhaps he wasn't as practised yet. Bellatrix wondered. She'd soon find out, she thought. She lined up opposite Tom and held her wand up, bowing to him. That felt good, to bow to him. But he bowed, too, and then Bellatrix aimed her wand at him.

He immediately shot a nonverbal Stunning Spell at her, but she recognised the blue blast of light the instant it left his wand. She'd taken more nonverbal Stunning Spells in combat than she could count. She threw up a nonverbal Shield Charm and held it as his Stunning Spell exploded off her shield in blue sparks. Tom looked mildly impressed, and the others in the room got distracted from their own Pumpkin-Head Jinxes and Stinging Hexes. They began to watch as Bellatrix took down her Shield Charm and whipped a quick Knockback Jinx at Tom. He blocked it and rocketed one of his own at Bellatrix. She dodged it and it hit the wall behind her, shattering a brick. Bellatrix Conjured some fire and sent it whooshing through the air toward Tom - not Fiendfyre, but a healthy blast. He put up a Shield Charm and cast a spell to extinguish the flame, and then he took his Shield down and cast another Stunning Spell at Bellatrix. It almost hit her, but she Disapparated just in time and came to about two metres away.

"My goodness! Enough!" cried Aoife Walsh. The others in the room - Slytherins and Ravenclaws alike - began to applaud, all terribly impressed by the Head Boy and the time traveler. Bellatrix stared at Tom through the applause, and he just stared back, looking breathless and a little hungry. He wanted more, she could tell. He wanted to fight her. He'd enjoyed this.

After lessons, Sutton and Ivy and Theodora came up to the desk where Bellatrix was sitting with Druella, and all the Slytherin girls chattered about Bellatrix's amazing duelling skill. But Bellatrix just stared at her lord and master, who was red-faced as he put his rucksack back together. Suddenly Bellatrix was very grateful that there were only three days until the ball. She found herself desperately wanting to dance with him.

* * *

"You're wearing  _that_?"

"That's just not fair."

"We all look like Erumpents."

Bellatrix ignored the hullabaloo behind her as she stared into the full-length mirror in the Slytherin girls' dormitory. She had opted for a strapless, sleeveless black gown in a watery silk for this ball. It hugged her figure - her teenaged figure that she'd missed - and fell to the ground in a perfect silhouette. Bellatrix wore elbow-length black gloves with the gown, and though she had no jewelry to wear, she'd styled her hair with silvery threads winding through a very loose braid over one shoulder.

"Well, it's better than an Azkaban uniform," she muttered, and the others didn't hear over how they were oohing and ahhing. Druella was wearing black, too, but she looked almost frumpy in her black wool knee-length dress with its cape. Theodora looked very pretty in purple, and Ivy was gorgeous in dark turquoise. Sutton's lumps weren't helped by her choice of an orange poufy gown, but Bellatrix told them all they looked magnificent. The girls all helped one another with cosmetic charms for makeup. Bellatrix insisted she could do her own; she'd been doing cosmetics spells for over a decade. She put on shiny red lipstick enchanted to stay put all night, and she lined her eyes thickly with black kohl. The others were jealous of her dramatic look, so Bellatrix helped them with their rouge and mascara until everyone was mostly happy with their appearances.

Finally the girls headed out to the Common Room, where their dates were waiting with corsages crafted with various levels of success. Poor Sutton's peach roses from Jacob Rosier were wilty and weak-looking, but Sutton didn't seem to mind. Bellatrix walked right up to Tom Riddle and instinctively bowed her head. He was holding a little box and a gorgeous corsage of rich, deep red roses, and after Bellatrix gratefully slipped the corsage onto her wrist, Tom said,

"I've brought you a little gift. Something I made. I thought perhaps you might have come here without jewelry. Please, if I've taken liberties, feel free to Vanish it."

"I'd never Vanish anything from you," Bellatrix said softly, and Tom smirked as he nodded.

"I know. Still, just open it, will you?"

She cracked open the box and saw a silver chain with a pendant winding around it - a silver serpent with what appeared to be tiny diamond eyes. Bellatrix gasped and flicked her eyes up to Tom.

"You  _made_ this?" she looked round quickly and added, "Master?"

"Yes, I did. It took more than one attempt. More than fifty attempts, but now I'm very accomplished at metalwork, so…" He grinned, and she pulled the necklace out of the box. She could not stop herself then from saying quietly,

"My Lord… how could I ever accept this from you?"

"With a simple  _thank you_ ," he told her, and she gave him a weighty look as she said,

"Thank you. Thank you. Thank you."

He helped her put it on, and he Vanished the box. As he tucked his wand away, he held his arm out, and they followed the others out of the Common Room and up from the Dungeons. The ball was in the Great Hall, which had been transformed to celebrate autumn. A slow, steady stream of red and orange leaves were falling from the enchanted ceiling, disappearing before they ever reached the students below. An orchestra of instruments with no players had been Charmed to play up at the head of the hall, and the staff had dressed up along with the students. Some intrepid Gryffindors had already taken to the dance floor, but Tom asked,

"Would you like a drink before we dance?"

"Of course I'll get you one, My Lord," Bellatrix said obediently. "What would you like?"

"Bella." He laughed at her then, shaking his head. He gripped at her hand and said, "This is a ball. I am your date. I'm asking you if you'd like a drink."

"Oh." Bellatrix was rather in shock then, and she glanced over to where some red-orange punch sat in a large bowl. "Erm… may we dance, perhaps?"

"Of course. Please, Miss Lestrange, may I have this dance?" asked Tom, and Bellatrix swooned a little. She let him keep holding her hand as they went out to the dance floor, and she caught Albus Dumbledore's eye. He was glaring -  _glaring_  - at them, and as Tom swept Bellatrix into a neat and tidy dancing stance, Bellatrix murmured,

"Dumbledore doesn't trust you even now."

"He'll stay enemies, I take it, he and I," Tom suspected, and Bellatrix nodded vigorously.

"Perhaps things might have gone better for me if I'd rid myself of him sooner," Tom mused. Bellatrix jolted a little and realised he'd just talked about radically altering the future she knew. But then she realised that even if it meant she'd never be born, she didn't care. All she wanted was his success.

"Perhaps you would have been more powerful, Master," she whispered. "He was always a thorn in your side. I do think I was sent here to warn you. To ensure your well-being. And there could be no greater purpose for me in life, you know, than to do that."

"Why didn't I… I don't understand," Tom said, shaking his head as they swayed to the music. He looked so incredibly handsome in his tuxedo robes, Bellatrix thought. He was almost oppressively handsome in these robes. She tried to stop ogling him and raised her eyes to him, and he wondered, "Was it because you were so much younger than me? A twenty-five year age difference? Was that why?"

"Master?" Bellatrix felt confusion, and then realisation. Why hadn't they been together. Tom Riddle couldn't understand why a Lord Voldemort in his fifties hadn't taken Bellatrix.

"Was it because you were married?" he continued, "or because… I don't understand."

"I do not think you thought me worthy, Master," Bellatrix said simply. "I never received that level of attention from you."

"You wanted it, though," he guessed, and she finally nodded.

"I did."

"You were in love with me." His brows knitted together, and Bellatrix felt a strange pinch in her mind. Legilimency. He was in her head. He was looking through her eyes at meetings, at Voldemort's office, at Azkaban. He was feeling every powerful emotion of devotion and love that Bellatrix had felt toward Voldemort through the years. She stared up at him as he searched her mind, as he scanned through her memories of him, and when he pulled out, there was such a dizzying  _whoosh_  that he wrapped his arms tightly around her to keep her from falling.

"You were in love with me," he said again, pulling back a little. Bellatrix just nodded, thinking she would cry. The song ended, but Tom did not let her go. He stared intently down at her and said,

"I could feel your powerful grief when I vanished. I could feel your glee when we would win a battle. Your life was all mine. You were all mine."

"I still am," Bellatrix whispered. "My Lord. I always will be."

"I need a moment. Excuse me." Tom pulled away, leaving Bellatrix standing alone on the floor. She hurried over to the punch table as Tom rushed off to the cookies and pastries. Bellatrix ladled herself a little glass of punch and swigged it down.

"You looked like you were enjoying yourself dancing with him," said Druella, and Bellatrix looked up to see her arm-in-arm with Cygnus. Her father. She was staring right at her parents. It was too much to take. She set the glass down and said quietly,

"I'm a little dizzy, actually. Pardon me."

She decided to get out of the Great Hall for a few moments. The whining music from the orchestra was overwhelming all of a sudden. She hustled out of the hall, feeling Dumbledore's eyes on her as she went. She went out into the corridor and escaped into a small alcove with no portraits. She stared at the school banner on the wall opposite her and pressed her palms to the stone behind her. She shut her eyes and breathed in, wondering if, when she opened her eyes, she would be in a cell in Azkaban.

"You know, you really do look incredibly beautiful tonight," said Tom Riddle's voice, and Bellatrix kept her eyes shut as she admitted,

"It's a lot to take in, Master."

"It is. For me, as well," he told her. Then she felt his hands on her cheeks, and her eyes sprang open. He was staring down at her, his dark eyes burning, and he seemed very determined just now. Bellatrix put her hands to the front of his tuxedo robes and asked softly,

"What are you doing, My Lord?"

"What I ought to have done many times over thirty-six years from now," he said in a low growl, and he bent to deliver a very deep kiss.

**Author's Note: Whew! I know I'm updating long chapters at breakneck pace, so I am ESPECIALLY grateful to anyone who takes a quick moment to leave a review. It means the world to me to hear that people are enjoying reading this story half as much as I'm enjoying writing it.**


	4. Chapter 4

The next morning, the day after the ball, was a Sunday. It was frigid and rainy when Bellatrix awoke and made her way to breakfast with the others. The Slytherin girls said they were going to huddle in the library and study, but Bellatrix didn't really need to do much studying. She knew all the class material backward, forward, and inside out. So instead she decided to go for a walk on the grounds. It had been quite some time, after all, since she'd really been here.

She was in a courtyard, not minding the rain, when she got cornered. Not by one wizard, but by quite literally the entire Gryffindor Quidditch squad, all in their practise uniforms, all clutching broomsticks. Bellatrix backed up against a wall and made a move for her wand as the boys walked toward her.

"Morning, Miss Lestrange," said the burly team captain. "We want answers."

"Answers." Bellatrix shook her head. "You want to know whether you become professional Quidditch players, whether you marry well and have good careers. I can't tell you any of that."

"And why not?" snapped a string bean boy in the back of the crowd. "You know it all!"  
"First of all, I've no idea who the blazes  _you_  are, so I know nothing about your future," Bellatrix huffed.

"Bella."

She whirled at the sound of her name, and her heart started racing when she saw Tom Riddle striding very, very quickly across the courtyard toward the group.

"Is there a problem here?" he demanded. "McKinnon, what's going on?"

_McKinnon._  Bellatrix would have enemies with that surname later on. The big burly team captain jerked his chin out and said to Tom,

"We think this time traveller ought to give us some information."

"First of all, that isn't how time travel works. She came here accidentally, and revealing information could be catastrophic for all sorts of people," said Tom primly. "Secondly, you're interrogating her like she's some sort of prisoner. Off with you, all of you. Get to your practise at once. And ten points from Gryffindor for harassing Miss Lestrange."

The entire squad of Gryffindors grumbled rather loudly about losing points, but they hustled off, out of the courtyard. Tom eyed Bellatrix up and down and said,

"You're soaked to the bone. Let's go somewhere warm and dry, out of this weather."

That meant the Slytherin Common Room, apparently. Bellatrix followed Tom down to the Dungeons, and once they were there, he shocked her by saying,

"Why don't you come into my room?"

"Wh-What?" Bellatrix looked around to see whether anyone had heard that scandalous suggestion. Tom cocked up an eyebrow and said simply,

"I'm Head Boy. I have private quarters. Nella Grover, the Ravenclaw Head Girl, has her own room in their Tower. I'm permitted visitors before curfew."

"You are?" Bellatrix was shocked. The Head Boy and Head Girl during her school years had been a Gryffindor and Hufflepuff, respectively, so she'd known nothing about the rules regarding their quarters. But Tom seemed unfazed and very confident as he led Bellatrix toward the boys' dormitories and then to the end of the corridor. He flicked his wand at his doorknob and said rather apologetically,

"It's a bit of a mess; sorry."

It wasn't a mess. His room was filled with stout dark furniture just like the other dormitories, except his looked like a palatial bedroom suite, with a larger four-post bed, a little sitting area, and a private bathroom.

"Why, oh why, was I not Head Girl?" Bellatrix lamented. Then she remembered how many times she'd gotten into trouble over the course of her own school career, and she mumbled, "That Hufflepuff brat earned it, I suppose."

Tom laughed a little at that and shut the door.

"Tea?" he asked, and as Bellatrix shivered from the rain in which she'd been cornered, she nodded her thanks. Tom lit a fire in his fireplace, and Bellatrix moved to stand before it. She listened to the clacking of the tea service as Tom readied what smelled like oolong, and then he asked her quietly,

"What was your life like with Rodolphus?"

"With Rodolphus?" Bellatrix turned, surprised that he'd asked about her husband. She gulped hard and told the truth. "We were an arranged marriage, My Lord. We were wed at nineteen. We were never in love, but we were friendly. I think he was unfaithful a few times, but it didn't matter given the circumstances of our marriage. He certainly knew how I felt about you. He was in prison with me when I fell asleep. He was one of the few who did not give up on you."

"A loyal man, then, at least to me," Tom noted. He handed Bellatrix her cup of tea, and she bowed her head to thank him. When she raised her eyes, Tom sighed and said, "I want to know more. I want to look into your head again."

"My mind is yours for the taking, Master," Bellatrix assured him. "Every thought I've ever had is yours. See whatever you like."

"Drink that tea and take a seat," said Tom, almost coldly. Bellatrix nodded, sipping some of the hot tea. She set it down on the small table beside the wingback chairs situated before the fireplace, and then she sank down. She gripped the arms of the chair with her fingers splayed, and she nodded.

"I'm ready."

" _Legilimens._ " Tom aimed his wand at her, and he came crashing into her mind with such force that Bellatrix's head flew back against the cushion on the chair. She shut her eyes against the whirling feeling.

He went back in her chronology to when she was a teenager admiring the ascending Lord Voldemort, whom her father Cygnus served as a financial advisor. Tom watched memories of Bellatrix peering in on meetings at the Black family house, then times that Lord Voldemort patiently spoke with Bellatrix about becoming a Death Eater herself. Tom watched himself brand Bellatrix with the Dark Mark, watched her take her vows of loyalty to him on one knee. He watched her fight feebly in her first battles, and then watched Voldemort train her on the grounds of Malfoy Manor so that she would be more useful in combat. Tom watched Bellatrix become fierce and vicious, watched as Voldemort started to expect her at his side in battles. He watched her sit near Lord Voldemort in meetings, her eyes locked onto him. He watched Voldemort cup Bellatrix's jaw just a few days before he vanished, just a few days before his Killing Curse rebounded. He watched Voldemort cup Bellatrix's jaw and whisper, his eyes flashing strangely,  _You've always been such a good girl, Bella._  And then he watched Bellatrix shriek and pound her fists when she realised her master was gone, watched Bellatrix torture and kill in search of him. When he finally pulled out of Bellatrix's mind, she was utterly exhausted, and she reached again with very shaky hands for her tea.

"Bella."

She stared up at Tom Riddle, whose eyes were glimmering just like Voldemort's had done that night he'd touched her. He seemed a little confused, and his throat bobbed as he whispered,

"What a bloody fool I was."

"What, to get a Killing Curse rebounded?" Bellatrix asked, but Tom stepped closer and scoffed.

"Not to kiss you every damned day. What was I thinking?"

"Master…" Bellatrix rose slowly from the chair, and she studied Tom's dark eyes. "Do you want to kiss me now?"

"Yes." His voice was almost inaudible, but his cheeks had gone pink, and he reached to wrap one arm around Bellatrix and touch his hand to the small of her back. He held her face with his left hand and whispered again, "Yes."

He did then, and Bellatrix realised again just how clumsy he was. His tongue didn't know what it was doing. He plunged it straight into her mouth and searched, and she tried to guide him. She let him hold her body, let him move them over toward the wall, but all the while she struggled to rein in and control the kiss. It must have been obvious what she was doing, for at last he broke away and confessed,

"I have no experience. You were married."

"I'll be your experience, My Lord," Bellatrix smiled, and then it occurred to her that she was kissing her lord and master again. Kissing him. Him. Last night had driven her mad, and she'd laid awake in her bed in the dormitory for hours perseverating over the idea that Lord Voldemort had actually kissed her. But now he was doing it again. He liked to kiss her. Her master wanted her. Bellatrix wanted to squeal, wanted to shriek with excitement. Her master wanted her. So she didn't care that he was clumsy. She was eighteen here, too. They could be clumsy together.

Over the next ten minutes, his kisses grew more elegant. So did his hands, which started to course around Bellatrix's body. At first he was just searching her arms and torso, but then he began to run his fingertips up the outsides of her thighs, then the insides of her thighs…

"Master," Bellatrix gasped, feeling hot and tight all over. He pulled back from kissing her, his lips looking swollen and bruised, and he seemed a bit drowsy with want. He panted a little and admitted,

"If I don't stop now, I won't stop, so…"

"Sex means expulsion if they find out," Bellatrix grinned, and Tom smirked. He nodded, stepping back and covering the front of his trousers with his hands. Bellatrix gently brushed her fingers over his and whispered,

"You don't need to hide it. I'm just glad you enjoy it, Master."

"There will be more," he informed her crisply. "There will be much more, when I decide I want it."

"Yes, My Lord." Bellatrix bowed her head and smiled a little. Suddenly she began to cry, feeling utterly out of control of herself, and Tom asked cautiously,

"What's the matter?"

"It's only… I've wanted this… something resembling this… for a very long time, Master," Bellatrix told him. Tom tipped her chin up and kissed her lips softly, and he confirmed,

"Thirty-six years is a very long time. How glad I am you've come through that very long time."

* * *

That night at dinner, Bellatrix sat with the Slytherin girls, feeling awfully distracted. They were talking about a dreadful History of Magic essay that was due in just a few days' time, which Bellatrix had already written. She glanced down the table to see that Tom Riddle's gang of lackeys - most of whom would become Death Eaters later on - were all sitting and eating, but Tom wasn't there yet. Where was he, she wondered?

"Oh, here comes Tom. Wonder what kept him?" Sutton mused, and Bellatrix snapped her head toward the door of the Great Hall to see Tom Riddle sauntering in as though he weren't late to dinner at all. He approached the Slytherin table and stepped up behind Bellatrix, and he held out a sealed envelope. Bellatrix frowned a little but took the envelope and made a move to open it.

"Ah-ah," Tom scolded her. "Save it for later. It's private."

He walked off then, and Sutton gasped.

"Catch me, Ivy; I'm swooning!" Druella said dramatically. "That's the most romantic thing I've ever seen."

"And do you like him?" Bellatrix asked Druella. For some reason, she wanted her mother's approval in all of this. Druella gave her an odd expression and said,

"Everyone likes Tom Riddle."

"Everyone except Dumbledore. I don't think Dumbledore likes him, for some reason," said Sutton, her mouth full of lamb pie.

"He's obviously going to be something great, like the Minister of Magic," said Ivy matter-of-factly, and Bellatrix mumbled,

"He's going to be more than that."

"What?" said Sutton in a muffled voice. Bellatrix looked round the table at all the round eyes staring back at her, and she said quickly,

"Forget it. I've said too much. Anyway, I've finished eating. I'm going back to the dormitory so I can open this letter. See you all."

Bellatrix practically sprinted down to the dungeons and into the Slytherin Common Room. She rushed into the girls' dormitories and clamored up onto her bed. She shut the curtains and tore at the wax seal on the envelope Tom had given her. She pulled out the letter inside and began to read.

_Bella,_

_I realise I was a very busy man in the life I was leading when you knew me, but there truly is no excuse for me never kissing you. I am going to make regular amends for that transgression. I do apologise that you lived so many years in unnecessary frustration._

_You appear to have been my greatest soldier, my most ardent ally, and my most ferocious Death Eater. You are those things still. You bear my Dark Mark even in this eighteen-year-old body. There is a reason for that. I know it. Why your features would have shifted but the Mark would have stayed, I can not explain, but I know there is significance._

_Rodolphus is not even born in this time, and you are staying in this time. You are not a married witch pining after her much-senior master any longer. Now, Bella, you are at my side as I climb, and I shall rely upon the knowledge and experience you possess to assist me in climbing more expeditiously and effectively than I did in the world you knew._

_Some people you knew may never be born. Some people you knew may die sooner than they did in the world you experienced. Know that the future which is your past is gone now. That future led to my demise, and so I can not let it come to pass. It is as you say. The Universe decided to move you through time, space, and age in order to warn me, to educate me, and to stand at my side as I climb._

_This time, I climb without falling._

_Lord Voldemort_

**Author's Note: Thank you sooooooooo much for commenting as I write and update at breakneck speed here (woot woot clinical hypergraphia!). I am really loving writing this story and am loving hearing your thoughts.**


	5. Chapter 5

" _Durescit Lapis._ " Bellatrix swirled her wand around the grapes on the desk before her, and they hardened into stone. Beside her, Druella Rosier cast the same spell, but her grapes just crackled and went grey. They didn't turn into actual stone.

"How'd you do that?" Druella demanded, and Bellatrix instructed her,

"Be sure that you're casting three perfectly equally sized circles," said Bellatrix, and Druella tried again.

" _Durescit Lapis._ "

This time, her grapes turned fully into stone. She squealed with delight. Professor Dumbledore came walking over and nodded his approval at both girls.

"Well done, ladies," he said. "Full marks on the Stone Transfiguration. Miss Lestrange, please stay after lessons for a quick chat today."

He walked away, and Bellatrix scowled. Druella began turning the carrot on her desk into stone. Bellatrix did the same, changing fruits and vegetables until the end of lessons. Once everyone had finished, Dumbledore went round and Vanished all the stone fruits and vegetables, and he dismissed the class. Tom Riddle walked out with Avery, Nott, Mulciber, and Lestrange, sparing a glance over his shoulder to Bellatrix. She bid the girls farewell and stayed, drumming her fingers on her desk as everyone filed out. Once they'd all gone, Bellatrix stood and approached Dumbledore's desk at the head of the classroom.

"Sir?" she said, remembering the most recent time she'd encountered Dumbledore in battle. She shot up her Occlumency shields, knowing full well that Dumbledore was a Legilimens, and she needed to block herself off. She had been taught Occlumency by Lord Voldemort in her twenties to keep her mind safe from Dumbledore in specific, as it happened. Now Dumbledore gave her an odd look, and he asked, as he had before,

"Miss Lestrange, how is it that you wound up in Azkaban?"

"I was stealing food, sir," Bellatrix lied.

"And you were in a situation where stealing food led to imprisonment in Azkaban?" Dumbledore asked. Bellatrix just stared right at him. Dumbledore sighed very deeply and sucked on his bottom lip.

"I do not trust Tom Riddle, and I think you know very well why that is," he said, and Bellatrix raised her eyebrows.

"No, sir," she said. "I can't imagine."

"No?" Dumbledore asked. "You know nothing that would concern you about associating with that boy?"

"No, sir," Bellatrix said very firmly. Dumbledore just huffed a breath and whispered,

"Very well, Miss Lestrange. Good day."

"Good day, sir," said Bellatrix, walking as quickly as she could out of the Transfiguration classroom.

* * *

"Tom?"

His name felt strange on her lips. She stood behind him where he sat at the Slytherin table with his gang of boys. Bellatrix had been late to lunch owing to her meeting with Dumbledore. Tom turned round from his butternut squash soup, and he raised his brows at Bellatrix, surprised to hear his name from her.

"May we speak for a moment?" She resisted the urge to add  _Master_ or  _My Lord_. He nodded and rose, excusing himself from the table. She walked with him to the edge of the Great Hall, and she could feel Dumbledore's eyes on her. She threw up her Occlumency shields and whispered,

"Dumbledore… Occlumency."

Tom glanced over his shoulder and then cleared his throat, and he stared at Bellatrix as he asked,

"I taught you Occlumency?"

"Yes, Master," Bellatrix whispered. She related what Dumbledore had said to her, that he had said he didn't trust Tom Riddle, that he had pressed Bellatrix on whether she had any reason to suspect Tom. He frowned and said,

"I'm not worried. Dumbledore's going to have far more than me to worry about very soon. Have you seen today's  _Daily Prophet?_ "

"No," Bellatrix admitted, and Tom recited the headline.

" _GRINDELWALD'S STRANGLEHOLD ON EUROPE GROWS AS MUGGLE WAR RAGES._  Dumbledore's got Grindelwald to worry about. I'm the least of his concerns."

"He defeated Grindelwald in a duel," Bellatrix hissed. "In 1945. Everyone knew it. Grindelwald was kept imprisoned afterward."

"Hmm…" Tom narrowed his eyes. "Perhaps… Perhaps there's a way for that to go a bit differently."

"You want Grindelwald to win the duel?" Bellatrix asked. "How are you going to arrange that?"

"I'll have to think on it," Tom said, "but I'd rather be the one to defeat Grindelwald -  _after_  he's defeated Dumbledore, of course. That needs to be the order of events. Dumbledore needs to lose that duel."

"It didn't happen until July of 1945," said Bellatrix, and Tom nodded.

"Then I've got time," he said, "to plan a bit. Now, Miss Lestrange, let's eat some lunch, shall we? Oh, and by the way… meet me at my room at eleven tonight."

"Eleven, Master?" Bellatrix whispered. "That's after curfew."

"Yes, I know it is," he said, rolling his eyes. "I'm Head Boy. I'm not going to get you in trouble. Promise. I have to do my patrols, and then I'll see you at my room. Now. Lunch."

* * *

Bellatrix carefully knocked on the Head Boy's room at precisely eleven o'clock, clad in her nightgown and black velvet dressing gown. The door opened, and Bellatrix found herself staring right at Tom Riddle.

"You finished your patrols?" she asked, and he just grabbed at her wrist and pulled her into the room. He shut the door and said,

"The girls wondered why you were leaving, I'm sure."

"I Confounded them in their beds," Bellatrix murmured, and Tom held her face.

"Good girl."

"Have you thought any more about the duel?" Bellatrix asked, and Tom huffed a breath and licked his bottom lip.

"I am not here tonight to discuss business with you, Bellatrix."

"No?" She covered his hand with hers and asked, "What are you here to do?"

"To finish what I started," he said seriously. "I have been wanting you for days, ever since I was kissing you and… I need to know what comes next."

"What comes next? You do, generally," Bellatrix teased, and Tom actually choked out a laugh. He brushed his thumb under Bellatrix's eye and told her,

"You're pretty. In your memories, I could tell I thought you were pretty. I always did. I could see it in my own eyes, the way I looked at you."

Bellatrix curled up half her mouth and shook her head. "No, Master. You never told me I was -"

"No, I never told you, but I could tell I felt it." Tom bent down and kissed Bellatrix's lips softly. "You killed for me. You tortured for me."

"Of course I did. So many times," Bellatrix nodded, brushing her lips against his. She hummed against his mouth and whispered, "I'd kill a thousand times for you, Master."

"Bella." That seemed to rile him up, that idea. He pushed her against the door and put his hands to the velvet rope around her waist. He pulled at it and encouraged her to shuck her dressing gown, which Bellatrix did. Were they undressing now? He was in grey flannel pyjamas. Was he going to take them off? Were they going to have sex?

"Master," Bellatrix mumbled into the kiss he gave her, "There is something I can do for you. Something that comes next."

"What's that?" Tom asked, pulling back. He stroked at her black curls and seemed rather excited. Bellatrix informed him,

"I can get on my knees, My Lord, and put your member in my mouth to pleasure you."

His dark eyes flashed, and then he gulped and asked plainly,

"You've done this to Rodolphus?"

Bellatrix's mouth fell open, and she helplessly whispered, "I was married, Master."

"So, yes, then." He looked a little ashamed, then a little angry. Then he licked his lips and asked Bellatrix, "You know what you're doing with this? You know how to make it feel good?"

"I promise to try and make you feel pleasure, Master," Bellatrix vowed. Finally Tom nodded determinedly and retreated into his bedroom, going to where a fire was blazing in the fireplace. He stood before the fireplace and began to unbutton his pyjama shirt. Bellatrix watched in wonder as he peeled his flannel shirt off. His lean chest and arms were so toned, so attractive, and as he tossed the shirt down onto the wingback chair, Bellatrix let out a little sound. Tom turned and smirked at Bellatrix, and he demanded,

"You like what you see, Miss Black?"

Her heart thumped to hear him call her that.  _Miss Black_. She hadn't been Miss Black in years. She pursed his lips and told him,

"I very much like what I see, Master."

"I want you to give me pleasure like you said you would do," he told her. "Come over here and give me pleasure, Bella."

"Yes, Master," Bellatrix whispered. She hurried over to him as quickly as she could and knelt on the ground before him as he pushed down his pyjama trousers and stepped out of them. He tossed them away, and suddenly Bellatrix just gaped.

"Something wrong?" Tom's voice was mildly anxious and certainly defensive, and he clutched at his hardened cock as Bellatrix knelt before him. She stared right at the organ and shook her head in wonder. Tom scoffed and snapped, "What's the matter, Bella?"

"It's, erm… your manhood is very large, My Lord," Bellatrix said, her cheeks going hot. She looked up, and he rolled his eyes.

"Don't flatter me," he said, but she said very sincerely,

"I've seen a few. You know, when I was a school girl, and then being married. And yours is… erm… it's very large."

"Is it really?" Tom tipped his head a little and smirked. He shrugged. "I always thought it seemed a little big when we shared showers in the dormitories. Ha. Well, what do you know."

She could swear he swelled up a little bit at that, and she finally reached with a shaking hand to wrap around his shaft. He released his own cock and let her go to work. Bellatrix slid his tip between her lips, moaning at the taste of his flesh. She pushed him in as far as she could, but she could only take half his length before she gagged. She used her hand on the bottom half of him, working diligently with her mouth at his tip and the upper part of his shaft. She licked at his tip, swirling her tongue around and suckling.

"Oh!  _Oh!_ Bella." Tom seemed to quite like that, and suddenly he was leaning onto the wingback chair beside him. Bellatrix kept licking, kept suckling, kept working her hand, but it was only a few moments before Tom exclaimed, "I'm going to come! I'm going to come."

Bellatrix jammed him as far down her throat as she could and made continuous sucking, swallowing motions. Tom groaned loudly, slamming his hand onto the chair beside him. Suddenly Bellatrix's throat was filled with a bitter, metallic fluid that she swallowed as quickly as she possibly could. She gulped and gulped, getting it past her gag reflex quickly. He'd not lasted at all, but how could she have expected him to last when he'd never received oral sex before?

He helped her off the ground and quickly put his pyjamas back on. Then there was a little shake in his voice as he said to Bellatrix,

"That was… erm… magnificent, Bella. Really. It was… I quite liked that."

"It will last longer with time," she promised him, and then he looked very embarrassed. She dared to reach up and hold his face, and she assured him, "It brings me pleasure to pleasure you, Master."

"Does it?" He glanced toward his bed and stared for a long moment, and for a while, Bellatrix wondered in shock if he was going to ask her to stay. But he finally said to her, "You were my greatest soldier. You tortured and killed for me. You were in love with me. Here, you give me information. You bring me pleasure. I think it is no secret, Bellatrix, that I find myself fond of you. Goodnight. Thank you for coming."

Twenty minutes later, having snuck back into the girls' dormitory, Bellatrix lay on her back and stared at the ceiling. She was  _here_  with  _him_ , she realised. She had come through decades, away from Azkaban, drawn back to him like a moth to flame. And now he cared something for her, however small that something was. He liked her. He felt pleasure because of her.

He was going to be powerful and victorious because she had come back.

Dumbledore would be defeated by Grindelwald, and Grindelwald would be defeated by Lord Voldemort. This must occur, Bellatrix knew, so that Lord Voldemort could rise and rule. And that would happen because she was here, because she had come to this new home.

She slept well that night, and she was refreshed when she woke in the morning.

**Author's Note: Whew! First real lemon of the story. So, what do you think? Will Tom Riddle figure out a way to interfere with the Dumbledore/Grindelwald duel to advance his own agenda and get Dumbledore out of the way? And will he wind up falling in any meaningful way for Bellatrix? Again, I just want to thank you so much for reading and especially for reviewing given the speed of updates. Every review is very, very, very, very appreciated!**


	6. Chapter 6

The next few weeks passed in relative peace and quiet. Bellatrix attended her lessons as instructed, and Tom was right about Dumbledore, who seemed sorely distracted by matters other than Bellatrix.

One Tuesday in early December, Bellatrix and Tom were at their Advanced Potions Course with Horace Slughorn, working on Somnolus Potions. The difficult serum was designed to send the drinker into a deeper sleep than even Dreamless Sleep did, and an overdose or a poorly brewed potion could be deadly.

"Here's a capercaillie egg," said Tom, handing one to Bellatrix.

"Thank you," she smiled, and she cracked it into her cauldron. Slughorn was up at his desk, grading essays from second-year students. Bellatrix whisked in her egg and then drizzled in Syrup of Hellebore. She sat down in her chair and clicked her stopwatch. They were meant to wait six minutes after adding the syrup. She looked over to where Tom was sitting, and he smirked at her. He flicked his eyes up to Slughorn and then back to Bellatrix, and suddenly he winced and told her,

"Your potion's burning."

"What?" Bellatrix flew to her feet and stared into her cauldron. He was right; her serum was sticking to to the copper cauldron and turning black. Bellatrix scowled. "No, no, no, no, no."

"Trouble, Miss Lestrange?" asked Horace Slughorn, and Bellatrix poked her stirring stick into her cauldron as she muttered,

"It's burnt, sir."

"Bella, don't poke it!" said Tom, but it was too late. Bellatrix had already touched the stirring stick to the charred potion, and the instant she did, the copper cauldron exploded. Bellatrix screamed and ducked, but not in time. She was hit by a large chunk of copper that smacked her in the face and definitely broke her nose, and another shard of copper sliced up the side of her neck.

"Bella!"

She was on the ground then, clutching at her neck, trying to staunch the bleeding.

"Dittany, Professor Slughorn!" screamed Tom Riddle, and then his wand was touching along her skin and he was murmuring, " _Episkey… Ferula…_ Hold still, Bella; you'll be all right. Is that the Dittany? All right. Thank you, Professor. Hold still, Bella."

She squirmed and stared at her bloody hands as he drizzled Essence of Dittany onto her bleeding neck. It burned and seared, but she could feel it healing.

"Quick thinking, my dear lad!" said Slughorn. "I dare say you may well have spared Miss Lestrange any serious damage. And we shall discuss the volatility of burned serums on another day. Miss Lestrange, up to the hospital wing with you at once! I shall take you."

"I can take her, Professor," said Tom, and he helped Bellatrix stand.

"I can walk," she assured them both. "I'm so sorry."

"Oh, do not be sorry, my dear! I'm only thankful for the fact that you are not wounded too badly, Miss Lestrange."

Tom helped Bellatrix hobble out of the Potions classroom, and Bellatrix assured him that she was all right. She sighed and whispered as they walked,

"I can't believe I poked a volatile potion, Master. What a rookie mistake."

"You weren't thinking. You got lazy," Tom said. "You need some medicinal potion to heal that nose up once and for all, and some more Dittany on that neck. You're lucky it didn't slice open your jugular."

"I'm sorry, Master," Bellatrix said, and a portrait they were passing muttered,

"What did she just call him?"

"Nothing!" Bellatrix exclaimed. It felt like a long way up from the Potions corridor to the Hospital Wing, and they had to pass many curious eyes on the way there. By the time they got to the hospital wing, the matron, Madam Cooley, swept Bellatrix onto a bed and began tending to her at once.

"You may go, Mr Riddle," said Madam Cooley, and Tom hesitantly told Bellatrix,

"Feel better, Bella. I'll tell the girls where you are."

"Thank you… Tom." She still felt so odd calling him that. She flashed him a grateful smile, feeling the strain in her sliced up neck when she did, and she watched him go.

Hours later, Bellatrix lay in her bed, having taken a very, very, very large dose of Draught of Peace to aid with the pain. She stared at the ceiling, high as a kite, and sighed. Suddenly someone appeared in the chair beside her bed. Albus Dumbledore. Bellatrix tried to put up her Occlumency shields and failed. She was too drugged. All she could do was stare at the ceiling and whisper,

"What do you want?"

"I get the impression that you are not my biggest fan, Miss Lestrange," said Dumbledore. She felt a prodding inside her mind, felt him poking around in there with Legilimency, but she tossed up her Occlumency shields even through the haze of the Draught of Peace. Dumbledore sat back and sighed. "You are an Occlumens."

"I had to learn many skills in a time of war," Bellatrix murmured.

"Why was there war?" asked Dumbledore, and Bellatrix scoffed. She shook her head and whispered,

"Why is there war now? There is always war, isn't there? Good and evil. Right and wrong. Big and small. Why is there ever fighting?"

Dumbledore nodded. He rose slowly from his chair and said, "I was sorry to hear you got hurt in Potions today, Miss Lestrange. How fortunate you were that Mr Riddle helped you so quickly."

"Yes. He's a better man than you give him credit for being," Bellatrix insisted, and Dumbledore hesitated. He said gently,

"Be well, Miss Lestrange."

And then he walked like a wraith from the Hospital Wing.

* * *

"Where are you going over the Christmas holidays?" asked Theodora a few days later. Everyone was starting to pack up, to take end of autumn term exams, and to prepare for going home for Christmas. Bellatrix and the girls were sitting in the Slytherin Common Room after dinner one evening, and she answered her classmate,

"I'm staying here. So's Tom."

"Well, he lives in a Muggle orphanage," lamented Ivy, "of course he stays here whenever he can."

Bellatrix tried to imagine fifty-five-year-old Lord Voldemort as an orphan in a Muggle orphanage. She couldn't. She gulped and remembered something.

"His birthday."

"Oh, yes. It's on New Year's Eve, isn't it?" asked Sutton. "Finally, he'll have someone to celebrate it with him. He's probably always been alone."

Bellatrix was frantic all of a sudden. What was she going to give him for his birthday? She needed a proper gift! She needed something worthy of her lord and master! She'd always gone out of her way to gift him things for his birthday, and he'd always seemed to appreciate them. But she'd had money in that life. One year, she'd given him a kaleidoscope that showed whatever colour reflected the mood of the person looking through it. She'd always given him gifts like that. How was she going to give him something adequate, something suitable, here in this time and place?

And then there was Christmas, too, just before his birthday! Suddenly Bellatrix was panting, overwhelmed, and Druella put a hand on her daughter's shoulder. She whispered,

"Bellatrix, you've gone white as a sheet."

"Are you all right, Bellatrix?" asked Ivy. "You look like you're going to faint."

"Sorry." Bellatrix took a few steadying breaths and put herself to rights. She'd figure it out, she reasoned. Somehow. Some way, she'd figure it out.

* * *

"Awfully quiet round here with everyone gone for the holiday."

Bellatrix looked up from her dinner. She smiled a bit at Tom, who slid onto the bench opposite her. They both glanced up to the Head Table, where the staff who had stayed on for Christmas was speaking quietly. That included Dumbledore, who eyed both of them for a moment before turning to Professor Dippet with a comment. There were three Gryffindors and two Hufflepuffs who had stayed for the Christmas holidays along with Bellatrix and Tom, but for all intents and purposes, the school was very empty. Earlier today, the Hogwarts Express had steamed out of Hogsmeade with nearly the entire school population aboard, everyone on their way home.

"Are you going to tell her?" asked Tom, ladling himself some potato soup from the tureen in the centre of the table. Bellatrix frowned and asked,

"Tell whom, My Lord?"

"Are you going to tell your mother that she's your mother?" He broke off a piece of crusty bread and dipped it into his soup. Bellatrix stared at him in surprise. She shook her head.

"I wasn't planning on it, sir. Is there a reason I should tell her?"

"I've been thinking," said Tom, chewing on a bite of dipped bread, "What if events transpire in a way that prevents your birth in this existence? Will you disappear? Go  _pop_  into the air and just vanish like I did in the world you came from?"

"What? I hope not!" Bellatrix exclaimed. "But of course, my being born is secondary - tertiary - to the significance of your success. If I did vanish in 1951 because I wasn't born, then that wouldn't really matter, would it? All that would matter would be your victory."

"I admire your loyalty, Bella, but of course it would matter," Tom said stiffly. He shifted where he sat and said, "I know from research on Time-Turners that one  _can_  exist twice in the same place at once. So you could be born in 1951 and be an adult in 1951 at the same time. Therefore, I think it is very important that Cygnus and Druella have a baby girl in September of 1951."

"So you want me to tell her that she's my mother?" Bellatrix clapped a hand over her mouth and felt dizzy for a moment. "Oh, she'll absolutely lose her mind. Druella's a fragile soul. She always will be."

"I think she needs to know. As your master, I ask that you do this. No. I command it." Tom stared right at Bellatrix as if testing her, but she didn't need testing. If he commanded it, then his will would be done. She nodded frantically and said,

"Of course, My Lord."

"Good. Enough talk of that." He dipped his bread into his soup and took another bite, and he asked Bellatrix, "Have you any interest in wizard's chess?"

"I'm terrible at it, but I'll play. You always beat me," Bellatrix laughed, and Tom's face went serious.

"We played?" he asked, and Bellatrix nodded, her heart hammering at the memories. Tom raised his brows and whispered, "Show me.  _Legilimens._ "

He crept slowly and carefully into her mind, and she showed him a memory of her sitting in Lord Voldemort's office at Malfoy Manor, playing a game of wizard's chess with him to help him unwind after a long day of meetings. She showed him another time that Voldemort had come to Castle Lestrange and had stayed after a meeting for a round of the game. In one memory, Bellatrix raised her eyes after being defeated to see Voldemort smiling just a little, like he always did, and his eyes locked onto hers. Tom pulled out of Bellatrix's head and stared across the Slytherin table. Bellatrix laughed a little nervously and told him,

"I didn't even let you win. I really am terrible at the game. You beat me every time."  
"I cared for you," Tom noted, as though in wonder, and Bellatrix shook her head insistently.

"No, Master. It was… you know, we played wizard's chess or Gobstones when you needed a little break from all the stress. I'm sure you relaxed with others."

"I do not suspect I looked at the others the way I looked at you." He drummed his fingers on the table, and Bellatrix's stomach flopped.

"Perhaps I'm just remembering it the way I wanted it to be. Master."

"Bella." Tom set down his spoon and looked round to be certain no one was within earshot. He leaned forward a little and said very quietly, "I want you to sleep over tonight."

"Sleep over?" Bellatrix's eyebrows flew up, and Tom nodded.

"I want you to sleep in the Head Boy's room," he said. Bellatrix grinned and nodded. That sounded marvelous.

Her plans were dashed to smithereens when Aoife Walsh, the Defence Against the Dark Arts professor, announced to the meagre student body that the two Gryffindor girls and Bellatrix would be sharing a dormitory under Professor Walsh's supervision in Gryffindor Tower during the Christmas holidays. Tom Riddle seemed absolutely irate at this news, and he growled from across the table,

"This is Dumbledore's doing. I saw him talking to Dippet; he suspected I'd have you in my room."

"Well, he suspected correctly, it would seem," Bellatrix pointed out. She sighed and finished eating, and after dinner, she had the House-Elves move her trunk full of belongings she'd acquired since moving to this time. She was given a temporary password to move through the portrait of the Fat Lady into Gryffindor's stately Common Room, and she settled into a bed in the dormitory she was sharing with the third-year and sixth-year Gryffindor girls. As they all readied themselves for sleep, the third-year with the kinky red hair asked Bellatrix carefully,

"Was it frightening to move through time?"

"No," said Bellatrix plainly. "I fell asleep there, and I woke up here."

"Do you miss your home?" asked the other girl, a tall, stringy brunette. Bellatrix shook her head.

"No. I'm much more comfortable here. Please, I don't want to answer questions."

They left her alone after that, and Bellatrix pulled the curtains shut on her bed. She sighed and wished she were in the Head Boy's room. Perhaps, she thought, the Head Boy could figure out some way to break the rules over the Christmas holidays. He seemed like the type who was very good and bending and breaking things. Surely there was a workaround.

There had to be a workaround. A sleepover sounded magnificent.

**Author's Note: This is the last post of the night! Promise! I'm forcing myself to get some sleep. In the meantime, please let me know what you think of the story so far. I am having way too much fun with this one. :}**


	7. Chapter 7

Bellatrix pulled on her dragon hide gloves and glanced over her shoulder to be certain no one had entered the Potions classroom whilst she'd been working. She pinched her lips and turned back to her cauldron, spooning in lye powder. She used her stirring stick to incorporate it into the Potioning Water she'd already added. In a separate melting pan, she added small quantities of Desert Palm oil, Coconut Oil, and Humupanu Fish Oil. She melted them over a small flame and then added the oils to the lye and water. Next she opened a jar of activated charcoal powder and scooped it into her cauldron, stirring again and then letting her mixture cool, removing the flame from beneath it. She stood and stared at her mixture. It was going to be soap - facial soap, specifically. She'd read that a good activated charcoal soap was good for the skin.

If she was to be poor in this time, then at least Bellatrix could make things, she thought. She would not approach Christmas without some sort of gift for her lord and master. Soap. What a piddly little gift, she thought, but it was better than nothing. Would he mock her for it? Would he be offended? She hoped he wouldn't interpret the gift as her saying he was unclean in some way. Bellatrix fretted now as she took out the bar molds she'd found in the Potions supply cupboard. She began ladling her soap mixture into the molds, making a total of six bars, and she sighed shakily. What if he was angry with her for giving him soap? Christmas was the very next day. She'd spent so long worrying over his gift that she'd been left with almost no time to make anything at all, and today she'd snuck into the Potions classroom to rush and brew up the charcoal soap from a recipe she'd found in a library book. That, too, had been snuck, for the librarian was home for the holidays. The book, entitled  _Cosmetic Brews and Potions For the Home_ , had many soap recipes, but this one had seemed by far the most manly.

Bellatrix popped the bars of soap out of the molds when they had cooled down, and she cleaned up her cauldron and supplies. Then she Conjured some brown parcel paper and wrapped up the bars of soap, Conjuring twine to bind it up. This was the best she was going to do, she reckoned. She felt shame. She would never have gifted her master something this homely in the world she had left behind. She sighed and carried the bundle out of the Potions classroom, going back to the Slytherin Common Room. She was allowed in here except for at bedtime, when she was expected in the Gryffindor Common Room.

Bellatrix touched at her neck, where she wore the silver serpent necklace Tom had given her at the autumn ball. He obviously could make far better gifts than she could. But she wasn't expecting a Christmas gift from him. He was the master, and she was the servant. She wasn't expecting anything from him. After all, it wasn't as though they were a couple. They hadn't even been intimate since that time she'd taken him in her mouth, and that felt like ages ago now.

"Bella."

She whirled around at the sound of her name to see Tom striding into the Common Room. He grinned at the sight of her, and as he walked closer to her, he glanced about as if triple-checking they were alone, and he finally approached. He hovered over her, put his hands on her shoulders as she stood there holding his gift, and he said,

"Bella. I've had an idea about the duel."

"You have?" Bellatrix's eyes went wide, and Tom smirked.

"We get a message to Grindelwald. Abraxas Malfoy's father Caeso Malfoy is fighting for Grindelwald as a representative here in Britain. He could get a letter directly to Gellert Grindelwald. We could explain that you are a time traveller, that you know about the duel where Grindelwald is defeated by Dumbledore, and that we wish for Grindelwald's success. We could promise to work with him to allow him entry to Hogwarts, and he could sneak up on Dumbledore here. Dumbledore wouldn't fight as hard if there were students' lives at risk. Grindelwald would defeat him here, here at Hogwarts."

"We write to Grindelwald about me being a time traveller." Bellatrix panted a little. She grinned madly. "You think Caeso Malfoy would deliver the letter straight to Grindelwald?"

"I know it. I've just gotten a letter back from Abraxas Malfoy; he's been discussing the matter with his father over the holidays."

"This is perfect!" Bellatrix cried. "Oh, Master. This will work. I know it will. It must."

"Well, it's worth a try, at least," he said in a far more measured voice than she was using. He nodded. "We'll give it a go."

Bellatrix bowed her head. "You are brilliant, Master."

"What's that you've got there?" he asked, and she raised her eyes to him.

"Oh. It's, erm… it's your Christmas gift," she said. Tom looked a little emotional as he studied the parcel, and Bellatrix felt more nervous than ever. Tom said,

"Well, it is Christmas Eve. May I open it now?"

"If you must," said Bellatrix with a little laugh. She passed over the gift and told him, "There was a time in my memory when I gifted you solid brass telescopes and carved wooden firewhisky tumblers. But this was the best I could do, owing to my limited financial circumstances and my rather pitiful lack of skill, I'm afraid."

"I'm sure it's wondrous, Bella," he mumbled. He tore at the packaging and saw the black bricks inside.

"It's soap," Bellatrix explained. He picked one up, and she said, "It's charcoal soap for your face. I suppose you can use it on the body, too. It's handmade soap."

"Bella." Tom blinked a few times and set down the brick. He seemed very serious, and she was terrified all of a sudden. Was he angry with her.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, but he stared at her and told her,

"I am so grateful."

"You are?" Bellatrix's eyes welled heavily. "You're grateful?"  
"More than I can say," Tom confirmed. "I am… thank you so much, Bellatrix. Truly. Happy Christmas."

"Happy Christmas, Tom." Bellatrix said his name on instinct, and she gasped a little. He didn't seem to mind that, either. He just stared down at the soap, and then he murmured,

"I've got your gift in my room. Will you come open it?"

"Of course, Master," she nodded, and she followed him down the corridor, past the boys' dormitory, past the green-and-black striped wallpaper, all the way to the stout, dark door that led into the Head Boy's room. She followed him inside, and he shut the door behind them. It smelled like the raging fire in here, and it was toasty warm. Bellatrix shut her eyes and breathed in, feeling comfortable, and she lamented,

"I hate sleeping in that Gryffindor girls' dormitory."

"Good thing I've already Confounded Aoife Walsh and the two girls in that dormitory into being very convinced when they wake tomorrow that you will have spent the night there, then," said Tom from where he stood. Bellatrix turned round and frowned.

"What do you mean?" she asked, and he smirked. He shrugged.

"I just passed them all upstairs, and I knew you were down here," he said. "I thought it was worth a try; the Confundus is nonverbal. I used a powerful version of the spell on each of them. They'll all wake tomorrow and be really quite certain that you spent the night in Gryffindor Tower. They'll just remember it wrong. That's all."

"Master." Bellatrix stared at his bed. She could spend Christmas Eve here, with him? She huffed a breath and swallowed hard. "Is that my gift?"

"No, Bella. That is not your gift," he laughed. Then his smile faded a little, and he picked up a wrapped parcel from his desk and passed it over to her. "This is your gift."

Bellatrix grinned broadly and opened the beautiful sage green wrapping paper. Suddenly she froze.

Soap.

He'd made her soap. Hers appeared to have rose petals in some bars and dried lavender in others. He'd made her herbal soap.

"We made one another soap," Bellatrix giggled, and then she began to laugh and laugh until her stomach hurt. Tom took the bars of soap away from her and set them on his desk. He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her a bit, and he murmured against her mouth,

"I don't have any money, either, and I'd already Conjured you jewelry for the ball, so…"

"It's perfect," Bellatrix smiled onto his lips. "Let's go try it out."

"What?" Tom pulled back a bit, and Bellatrix smiled. She nodded and said,

"Let's go try the soap in the shower."

"Together?" Tom seemed nervous, but Bellatrix threw up an eyebrow and reminded him,

"I've already seen you naked. Everything's better wet."

"Is it?" He reached behind him for one bar of the charcoal soap and one bar of rose soap, and he shrugged. "All right, then. To the shower."

His bathroom was bright white, tiled all over, and the shower cascaded into a very deep claw-foot tub with a silky sort of curtain that went all the way round it. Bellatrix took her time stripping off her Slytherin robes, and Tom watched her the entire time. It felt like putting on a show, which made her a little nervous. But she was proud of her teenaged body, of her round, firm breasts, of her completely flat stomach. He seemed to like what he saw, and when he took of his own clothes, he was completely hard. She wasn't surprised by that, not one bit. He turned on the taps in the bath and switched it to the shower function, and Bellatrix stepped in first. She held out her hand to encourage Tom to follow her in, and when he did, she stood under the water, so much shorter than him with their height difference more evident in here.

"Perhaps… perhaps I could wash you… and you could wash me…" Tom said, his voice shaking a little. Bellatrix smiled up at him and nodded silently.

"I'll go first," Tom said more firmly then. He set down the charcoal soap into the rest on the side of the bathtub, and he stood and lathered his hands with the rose soap. He used his right hand to wash Bellatrix's shoulders, and he breathed heavily as he did. Then he washed her arms, and then her thighs and her legs. He was avoiding all the really sensitive areas, she could tell, but still she was coming alive for him. She moaned a little when his fingers brushed over her breast, and he responded. His hand rubbed at the soap and then at her breast, and she gulped. She shut her eyes tightly and whispered,

"I like that."

"More?" he asked, and she nodded.

He lathered up his hand and massaged the other breast, rolling her nipple between his thumb and forefinger. Then he moved his soapy hand down over her stomach and encouraged her to turn round. He rinsed his hand and slid it between her legs, pulling her back against him. She felt his hard cock throbbing where it was folded against her back, and Bellatrix threw her head back, whispering,

"More. Please. Master."

"More, Bella." He slid his middle finger down over her clit, exploring, gliding, unsure of what to do. She covered his hand with hers and showed him how, showed him where to press, how to move his fingers just so against her folds and slit until she arched her back and he leaned down to kiss her. His left arm curled around her body and played with her soaking wet breast, pressed against her stomach, and she moaned loudly. She was going to snap. He was going to make her snap like a string.

"Master!" She groaned the word against his lips, and then she was clenching around his fingers, everything having gone searing hot in between her ears. Her veins were on fire for a moment. When at last she came down from the racing high, she stumbled away from him and panted, whispering, "Oh, Master. Master."

How could  _he_ do  _that_ to  _her_? Him, her master? Her lord and master? She was just lowly little Bellatrix! She was not worthy of that from him. Her head spun as she stared at Tom where he stood looking like a starving man, and she reached for the charcoal soap. She lathered up her hands and set the soap back down for a moment. She scrubbed quickly at his chest, arms, and stomach. She knew what he wanted. She'd get him clean quickly; she knew what he wanted her to do. She lathered up again and bent down to scrub his thighs, his calves, and his feet. Then she lathered once more, this time for lubrication, and she put both hands to his cock.

She stared straight into his eyes as she jerked at him, sliding both hands over his length, over his tip. She used one hand to fondle his balls and used the other to swirl over his tip, to pump frantically at his length. It only took a few moments before Tom gasped, his mouth falling open. A choked little noise came from him, and he shook his head as he whispered,

"I can't stop it."

"Let it happen," she replied, her eyes feeling heavy. "It feels good, hmm?"

"Yes." He shut his eyes and came, his come jetting in volleys into the little pool of water on the floor of the bathtub. It was quickly washed away, but his pleasure did not fade nearly as rapidly. He seemed dizzy, so much so that Bellatrix hurried to shut off the taps and reach for towels. She wrapped one around Tom's waist, and he whispered,

"Bed. Mmph."

"Bed sounds nice," Bellatrix agreed. She glanced around as they stepped out into the bathroom, and she noted, "I haven't any pyjamas down here."

"Sleep naked," Tom grinned, and Bellatrix laughed a little. She shrugged.

"All right."

A half hour later, she was fading quickly into the abyss of sleep, curled up naked beneath Tom's sheets with her hair having been dried by a Hot-Air Charm. She coiled up against Tom's body, one leg strewn across his hips and one arm over his chest as he lay on his back.

"Happy Christmas, Bella," he muttered, sounding very sleepy himself. He yawned a little, and Bellatrix murmured back,

"Happy Christmas, My Lord."

In the morning, she woke alone in bed and was confused by his absence, until she looked over and saw him sitting at his desk, already clothed in his school uniform.

"What time is it?" Bellatrix asked groggily, and he said softly back,

"Half past six."

"Oh." Bellatrix lay back for a moment, but then Tom said,

"I've just finished this. Come have a look."

She pulled herself naked from the bed, grabbing Tom's black velvet dressing-gown from the hook near his bed and putting it on despite it being entirely too long in every direction. She strode up to his desk and read over his shoulder at the parchment before him.

_Dear Mr Grindelwald,_

_Sometimes the most unbelievable facts in life are the facts that bring us our greatest successes. I know that what I am about to say may sound completely implausible, but I vow to you that it is true._

_Bellatrix Black Lestrange is currently a seventh-year Slytherin at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. She is also a time traveller. You see, Madam Lestrange (for she once had a husband), fell asleep in Azkaban Prison (where she was serving a sentence for casting the Cruciatus Curse) in 1982, and she awakened in the Slytherin girls' dormitory in 1944. As with most documented cases of multi-decade time travel, this case was entirely accidental._

_Upon her arrival in our time, Madam Lestrange informed me of a great many facts about the future. One of these facts is that in July of 1945, Albus Dumbledore will defeat Gellert Grindelwald in what will come to be known as the greatest duel of all time. Gellert Grindelwald will then be imprisoned in his own fortress while Dumbledore goes on to be deified by the wizarding community and to become Headmaster of Hogwarts and a member of the Wizengamot._

_I do not wish to see this happen._

_I, Tom Marvolo Riddle, do vow to work with my friends and allies to assist you in coming to Hogwarts to ambush Albus Dumbledore before he has the opportunity to defeat you in the duel that will apparently become so infamous. Or, I will assist in whatever plan you may concoct to ensure that Dumbledore does not win that July 1945 duel._

_I firmly believe that Madam Lestrange was sent through time and space as a warning. The future which is her past seems filled with doom and destruction. We must not let that path come to fruition. I will assist you in any way I possibly can to see the downfall of Albus Dumbledore._

_For the Greater Good._

_Tom Marvolo Riddle_

**Author's Note: Awww, they both made each other soap and are working to defeat Dumbledore. So you know it's a Bellamort romance. LOL. As always, thank you a thousand times over for reading and especially for reviewing. :)**


	8. Chapter 8

_Mr Riddle,_

_I find your information intriguing, your proposition enticing, and your goals admirable. I will be in touch through my friend Caeso._

_G.G._

"That's all he sent?" Bellatrix asked, but Tom gave her a very serious look.

"That's all?" he repeated. "This is Gellert Grindelwald personally communicating with me about a plan to eliminate Dumbledore, and you say 'that's all'?"

"Sorry, Master," Bellatrix mumbled. "It's only that… well, I was born after Grindelwald's time. I never knew of him in person. And you became so much more than he ever was."

Tom seemed pleased to hear that. He folded up the letter he'd received from Caeso Malfoy and Vanished it with his wand. Letters like that couldn't be kept about. He and Bellatrix were in the privacy of the Head Boy's room on the twenty-eighth of December, but it seemed that even the walls had ears at Hogwarts.

"I want you to tell me more," Tom told Bellatrix. "You said something about me going to the Continent. I don't want to waste time doing that this time round. What did I learn on the Continent?"

"Oh. I don't know everything you learnt there," Bellatrix said regretfully. "I know you learnt some Necromancy, but you were always very secretive about what sort of Necromancy. Something about Inferi."

"Inferi?" Tom raised his eyebrows and looked impressed. "I learnt to make Inferi?"

"I don't know," Bellatrix admitted. "I don't know if you ever used them for any purpose. I just don't know. I'm sorry."

"Hmm." Tom tipped his head. A strange look came over his face, and he nodded. "I'll bet I know why I wanted Inferi, and I don't really want to discuss it."

"Oh." Bellatrix shrank back a little. "All right, Master."

"There is something I wish to discuss with you, though," he told her, and they began to walk to the wingback chairs before the fire. They sat down slowly, and Tom drummed his fingers on the arm of his chair.

"You know I haven't got parents," he said. Bellatrix shifted a little.

"They said you lived in an orphanage. It doesn't matter to me."

"My mother was a Gaunt." He fingered the black stone ring he always wore on his right hand, and he added, "An ancient and noble Pureblood family. She was a Pureblood."

Bellatrix just nodded. Tom leaned forward a little and said,

"She used magic to entrance the handsome, wealthy local Muggle with whom she was in love. He became my father, and when she freed him from his entrapment, he ran. He lived one life and I lived another… until last year."

"What happened last year, Master?" Bellatrix asked, her throat dry. Tom narrowed his eyes and whispered,

"I killed him. Him and his filthy Muggle parents."

Bellatrix just blinked. He seemed surprised by her lack of reaction, but she'd seen him kill dozens of times in her life. Hearing that he'd killed his disgusting Muggle father was one of the least shocking pieces of news Bellatrix had ever received. She smiled a little and told him,

"Well done, My Lord."

"Well done?" he said, sounding surprised. "Well done."

"Sorry; did you want sympathy?" Bellatrix was confused. He shook his head wildly and said,

"N-No; it's just that you seem so at ease with killing. My doing the killing. Your doing the killing. It really was war where you came from, wasn't it?"

"It really was," Bellatrix affirmed. She shrugged and told him, "We all did the killing."

"Did you?" He narrowed his eyes and whispered, "Show me."

Bellatrix raised her eyebrows. "Show you, Master? What do you want to see?"

"A battle," he said. "Show me a battle."

"I'd have to concentrate very hard to remember everything," Bellatrix said.

"Well, concentrate, then," Tom replied. He leaned forward toward her, his face shining in the glow of the firelight, and he whispered, " _Legilimens."_

He slipped into her mind like a snake slithering on the ground. Easy. Simple. He was inside her head before she knew it.

' _Bombarda!' screamed Bellatrix, and a giant explosion burst forth from her wand and sent dirt flying all over the place. Someone screamed and went soaring, their body smacking against the stone wall nearby._

' _Bellatrix, get down!' shouted Lord Voldemort, and Bellatrix shrieked as a boulder came flying at her head. Voldemort sent a Killing Curse at the red-haired wizard who had aimed the boulder at her head. A centaur on Voldemort's side shot an arrow that burst into flames as it soared through the air, and it socked into the chest of a tall, skinny witch. She screamed in terror, and Albus Dumbledore rushed to extinguish the flames that engulfed her body._

"Bella," said Tom in awe, pulling out of Bellatrix's mind. "Were all the battles like that?"

"The war was… intense, Master," Bellatrix affirmed. "Many were lost on both sides."

He seemed utterly fascinated. He tipped his head and asked,

"What did we all do during the war when we weren't fighting? Surely it wasn't all combat all the time?"

"Well, no, Master," Bellatrix laughed. "We had weddings, funerals… Abraxas Malfoy always had a very grand Christmas party."

"Show me one of those," Tom said eagerly. "Show me a Christmas party.  _Legilimens._ "

He crashed into her mind so suddenly that Bellatrix had no time to control the specific memory he pulled out of her head.

_Bellatrix was dancing with Rodolphus at the Malfoy Christmas party. Rodolphus had his arms around her tightly, and he bent down to kiss her lips carefully as he whispered,_

" _You look pretty tonight."_

"Bellatrix!" Tom sounded scandalised as he yanked himself from Bellatrix's mind, but she felt her cheeks go hot as she said defensively,

"He was my husband, Master. Will be. He will be my husband."

"No, he won't be." Tom narrowed his eyes. "I don't want him to be your husband."

Bellatrix's mouth fell open. She scoffed quietly and then whispered, "Well, all right, then."

"I think you should go up to Gryffindor Tower before you get in trouble for being down here," Tom said tightly, and Bellatrix rose on shaking legs as she asked worriedly,

"Are you cross with me, Master?"

"No. Have a good night, Bellatrix," he said very tightly, walking her over to the door. Bellatrix was practically shoved out of his room, and he shut the door behind her before she could answer meekly,

"Goodnight, My Lord."

* * *

On the morning of the thirty-first, Bellatrix went down from Gryffindor Tower to the Great Hall with a parcel in her hands. She sat at the Slytherin table and ladled herself some porridge, eating an apple on the side. She sipped some pumpkin juice and waited. And waited, and waited. He was late.

When he finally did come, he sat opposite her and eyed his birthday gift. Bellatrix had been trying desperately to get him to stop being angry with her for three days, but it seemed that seeing a memory of her husband kissing her whilst they danced had deeply affected Tom Riddle. He softened now, though, at the sight of the package, and he asked,

"What's in that?"

"Happy birthday, Master," Bellatrix murmured gently, pushing the parcel toward him. She flicked her eyes up to the Head Table to see Dumbledore giving them a disapproving glare, and she shot one right back. Soon enough, she thought, Grindelwald would defeat Dumbledore.

"Are these… puzzles?"

"They're jigsaw puzzles." Bellatrix turned her attention to the gift she'd made for Tom. There were four slices of irregularly-shaped agate that Bellatrix had bought by owl from the apothecary in Diagon Alley. One was blue, one was purple, one was pink, and one was turquoise. Each slice of agate had been carefully cut using a Severing Charm into jigsaw pieces, so that each one made a complete puzzle. There were about a hundred pieces in each puzzle. It had taken Bellatrix a lot of time and effort over the last few days to get these right, and she was rather proud of them. Tom seemed to be admiring them, taking the turquoise one apart and starting to put it back together. He grinned at her, his face lighting up in a way it hadn't done for several days.

"You made these?" he asked, and when she nodded, he glanced toward the teachers and insisted, "You should get some sort of extra credit for making these."

"I don't need extra credit," Bellatrix laughed. "I just want to make you happy. Have I done that?"

"Oh, yes." He packed the puzzles back up in the parcel paper, and he reached to cover Bellatrix's hand with his own. She was surprised by the bold move, but he met her eyes and said seriously, "When the others come back from the holidays, I want it to be known that you're… mine."

"That I'm your servant?" Bellatrix asked, surprised that he would want people knowing he had a posse so early on. But he shook his head and closed his eyes.

"My  _girlfriend_ , Bella."

"Your… I'm sorry. I beg your pardon?" Bellatrix couldn't breathe all of a sudden. She blinked quickly as he squeezed at her hand. He finally found her eyes again, and his were dark and cold and certain.

"You may have been married in your past that hasn't happened yet," he said, "but here you are eighteen and I care deeply for you, and I would like you to let the others know that you're mine. And not just in the way that your Dark Mark made you mine in the life you lived. That will come later, to be certain. But for now, Bella, I should like for you to be my girlfriend. Say you'll do it."

As if she could ever deny him a thing such as that. Bellatrix nearly toppled out of her seat. Him. Her lord and master. Lord Voldemort. Tom Riddle. Asking her to be his girlfriend. She just nodded frantically and felt tears boil up into her eyes. He smirked a little and said,

"When Abraxas Malfoy gets off the Hogwarts Express, then, I'm going to call him off you for good. He wouldn't stop talking before Christmas about how pretty you were, how badly he wanted to date you."

"Abraxas?" Bellatrix choked a laugh. "How ludicrous."

"Indeed. And you're going to tell your mother that she's your mother," Tom confirmed, giving Bellatrix a meaningful look. Bellatrix gulped hard and affirmed,

"I shall tell her, My Lord."

"I'll speak to Cygnus," he reassured her. He sighed and squeezed her hand again, and as he ladled himself some porridge, he said rather happily,

"My, what a marvelous birthday. Eighteen. Splendid."

**Author's Note: I know this chapter was kind of short, but there's a lot to unpack here. Grindelwald's in touch! Jealousy against Rodolphus! They're officially dating! She's going to tell Druella she's her mother in just a few days! Ahhh! So much coming up in the next few chapters. Thank you very much for reading. Please do leave a review if you can.**


	9. Chapter 9

"Oh, I'm so happy to be back," said Sutton, digging into some mashed potato. Bellatrix took some grilled asparagus from the dish before her and put it on her plate.

"Did you have a good holiday?" she asked, and Sutton nodded vigorously.

"My parents got me new dress robes and a new silver charm bracelet."

"I got an enchanted mirror that shows you the ideal makeup to put on with your outfit," said Ivy Greengrass, who had done cosmetics spells today even with her school uniform. Now Bellatrix understood why. Theodora mumbled,

"My parents just put money into my Gringotts vault for me."

"Well, that was generous of them, at least," Sutton protested.

"I got a  _doll_ ," Druella groaned. "My mother still thinks I'm a child."

"Oh, erm… Druella." Bellatrix nibbled her lip anxiously and said, "There's something I wanted to talk to you about."

"Have I done something wrong?" Druella asked, rather defensively. Bellatrix shook her head but said,

"It's just… it's, erm, private."

Druella looked at the other girls, hesitated, and finally said,

"Let's go for a walk, shall we?"

"All right." Bellatrix rose from the Slytherin table with Druella and glanced down to where Tom sat with his gang of boys. He watched her stand with Druella and gave her a reassuring nod. He'd be speaking alone with Cygnus, Bellatrix knew. She gulped and nodded back at him. She walked with Druella out of the Great Hall, and the two of them huddled into their winter cloaks as Bellatrix suggested,

"Perhaps the courtyard?"

"Bellatrix, what is this all about?"

"It's important, Druella," Bellatrix said back quietly. "I promise."

Druella seemed very nervous then as she followed Bellatrix into the clock tower courtyard. It was snowing lightly, just little flurries, and Bellatrix murmured,

"Let's have a seat on this bench, shall we?"

"What is this all about?" Druella asked again. Bellatrix sank down beside Druella and studied her face. She could see herself there. She could see Andromeda and Narcissa, too. Druella had wide, dark eyes, sharp cheekbones, and full lips just like all three of her daughters would have. Bellatrix shook a little as she finally said,

"You told me… when I first came here… that you liked my name."

"Yes, I did," Druella nodded. "I like the name Bellatrix. When I was little and actually did play with dolls, I'd name half of them Bellatrix."

"Did you name any of them Andromeda or Narcissa?" asked Bellatrix, and Druella's face went white in the moonlight.

"How did you know?" she whispered. Bellatrix shut her eyes, gathered herself, and opened her eyes again. She breathed in very deeply, sighed, and knitted her hands in her lap.

"In 1946, you will marry Cygnus Black III," Bellatrix told Druella, whose jaw dropped. Bellatrix continued, "You will have several miscarriages over the next five years and will become convinced that you'll never be a mother. But you will be. At the age of twenty-four, in 1951, you will give birth to a little baby girl with black curls. A little baby girl called Bellatrix."

"You." Druella breathed the word, her breath puffing out in the cold air before her. Her eyes welled heavily, and she reached out as if she wanted to touch Bellatrix's face. "You're my… you're… I'm your mother?"

"Yes." Bellatrix nodded, and she continued, "You'll have two other girls, Andromeda and Narcissa. Andy married a Mudblood and you had to disown her. It isn't too late to keep that from happening. Cissy had a little boy by the time I went to prison. His name was Draco; you doted fiercely over him. You were a good mother. You were a really good mum."

"I was?" Druella was crying now, tears streaming silently down her cheeks as she shook her head in disbelief. She finally reached with a shaking, cold hand and held Bellatrix's face. She seemed afraid to touch her, and she pulled her hand away after a moment as she marveled, "You're my daughter."

Bellatrix shrugged and admitted, "I wasn't going to tell you. But Tom Riddle thought I should. He knows that it's inevitable that the future will change because I've come back through time. But it's vitally important that you marry Cygnus and that I be born, or else… or else I could disappear, you know?"

Druella's mouth fell open again in surprise, and she whispered, "Yes. Of course. Oh, Bellatrix. This is… I don't know what to make of this."

"Tom's telling Cygnus," Bellatrix said. "It's important that the two of you keep this to yourselves. Professor Dippet advised me not to give this sort of information to people, and I'm not exactly heeding that advice. But Tom thought it was very important that you know. I do hope you and I can still be friends."

"Friends?" Druella swiped at her tears and nodded vigorously. "Yes. Friends with my time-travelling daughter. Perfectly normal. Everything's fine. This is… this is all normal and fine. Oh, I'm going to faint."

"No. Druella." Bellatrix put her hand on her mother's shoulder to steady her, and Druella stared at Bellatrix's hand. She raised her eyes to Bellatrix and asked concernedly,

"Why were you in prison, Bellatrix?"

"I was fighting in a war, and I was on the losing side," Bellatrix said honestly. "Tom's going to see to it that it doesn't happen that way again."

"I see." Druella's breath puffed out in the cold air as snow covered her dark waves, and she whispered, "It's very cold. We should go back inside."

"I can't call you  _Mum_ ," Bellatrix reminded the both of them. "I have to just keep on calling you  _Druella_ , and we have to just be friends here."

"Friends." Druella nodded and reached for Bellatrix's hand, squeezing it a little. "Yes. We'll be good friends here, Bellatrix. And don't you worry. I'll marry your father, and you'll be born. You won't disappear. I wouldn't let my child disappear."

"See?" Bellatrix sniffled a little, from the cold and something else, and murmured, "You've always been a very good mother. Let's go inside."

* * *

"Do you think my hair looks silly like this?" asked Sutton, and when Bellatrix turned, Sutton was standing before the full-length mirror in her nightgown, her hair fashioned into large curls atop her head. It did look just a little silly, but Bellatrix insisted,

"Looks great."

"Don't lie; it looks ridiculous," Sutton mumbled, using her wand to release her hair. Bellatrix smirked at Druella and Ivy as the three girls took their bathroom bags into the tiled, shared bathroom. Each girl took a sink, and Bellatrix pulled out her toothbrush and jar of cleansing powder. She wet her brush and dipped it into her powder, and then she started scrubbing at her teeth.

"I had to see some Healers over the holidays," said Ivy Greengrass from her sink along the wall. Druella frowned deeply and demanded with a mouthful of paste,

"For that problem with your legs?"

"They just give out on me." Ivy dipped her toothbrush into her powder. "I'll just be walking and my legs just sort of collapse. It's happened so many times. My father calls me  _frail_. Says I'm just like his grandmother was. Her legs gave out, too, when she was young. But she died before he was born."

"Don't talk like that, Ivy." Druella spat out her toothpaste and rinsed her mouth. Bellatrix stayed silent. Ivy sighed heavily, finished scrubbing her teeth, and then turned to Bellatrix as she gripped the sides of the sink.

"Bellatrix," she said, and instantly, Bellatrix shook her head.

"I do not answer questions," she insisted.

"You won't even tell me if I was alive in the time you came from?" Ivy asked, sounding heartbroken. Bellatrix hesitated, and then she shook her head again and said,

"I didn't know everyone. How would I know the life story of every student in Hogwarts?"

"You're a Pureblood. I'm a Pureblood. If I was alive in your time, you'd have known," Ivy insisted. "You won't tell me. That means I die."

"That's not…" Bellatrix shut her eyes and then opened them determinedly, reaching for a wash cloth. She turned on the hot water in the sink and lathered up some of the lavender soap Tom had made for her for Christmas. She began to wash her face, and as she scoured her skin, she insisted, "I can't tell you one way or the other, Ivy. I'm sorry."

"So I die." Ivy seemed very convinced of her fate, and she shrugged. Druella put her hand on her friend's shoulder, and she shook her head.

"No. It could be stopped. Just because Bellatrix didn't know you doesn't mean there isn't something the Healers could do differently, Ivy. Things could be different. Things could change."

"Curses don't change," Ivy snapped. "Curses don't evaporate into thin air, Druella."

"Curses?" Druella asked in awe, and Ivy's pale eyes glittered with tears as she said,

"That's what everyone says in my family. That we're cursed. That an ancestor had a curse put on her blood that doomed us. It pops up every now and then. Maybe I'm the random victim."

"We should stop talking about it," Bellatrix said very firmly. "You should live your life."

"My short, pitiful little life," Ivy bemoaned, but Bellatrix swallowed hard and buckled up her bathroom bag. She walked out of the bathroom into the dormitory and put her bag away in her trunk, and as she climbed into her bed, Sutton, who had overheard everything, said,

"I have a question that will rather change the topic of conversation, if I may."

"Please do," said Druella.

"Well." Sutton sat on the edge of her own bed and grinned wildly at Bellatrix. "Tom Riddle can't take his eyes off of you. What happened over the holidays here at school? You two were practically alone."

Bellatrix bowed her head, a little embarrassed to discuss this in front of Druella now that the nature of their relationship was known. But they were to be friends here, they'd agreed. Bellatrix huffed a breath and raised her eyes to the other girls, and she shrugged.

"I'm his girlfriend now," she said, and Ivy gasped.

"Tom Riddle has an actual girlfriend? He's always said he couldn't be bothered!"

"Well, apparently I'm a bother he's willing to endure," Bellatrix said, and Druella smiled almost proudly. Sutton giggled and clapped her hands, and Theodora, who was almost asleep where she'd been lying in her own bed all the while, sat up slowly and said in complete shock,

"I can not believe that Tom Riddle formalised an actual relationship with a girl. You are literally the luckiest female in this entire school, you do realise."

"I think that's probably right," Bellatrix acknowledged. "I'm mad for him. Absolutely mad for him."

"Well, I for one am very, very happy for your happiness," said Druella firmly. Bellatrix wanted to say,  _Thanks, Mum,_  but instead she just smiled and nodded. Ivy seemed very jealous, but she said quietly,

"Perhaps someday I'll be someone's girlfriend."

"Oh, I'm sure you will, Ivy," Sutton nodded firmly. "I want to be someone's girlfriend, too."

"Well, you can all court the boys tomorrow," Bellatrix said. "We'll be partnering up for duels again in Defence Against the Dark Arts. Charm the boys with your exemplary Stunning Spells."

Everyone laughed a little, and as they settled into bed, Bellatrix realised something.

She was at home here. She was comfortable here. She didn't miss Rodolphus - she hadn't been allowed to see him in Azkaban, anyway. She was  _with_  her lord and master here. She was young and vibrant again here. She could be friends with her mother here. She could help rewrite history here so that Grindelwald defeated Dumbledore and Lord Voldemort rose to the ultimate supremacy.

This was home.

**Author's Note: I would really appreciate it, if you are reading this story and enjoying it, if you could take a quick moment to leave just a tidbit of feedback. Let me know what you're enjoying, what you'd like to see more of, etc. I absolutely take feedback into account and it is valued beyond belief. Thank you. :)**


	10. Chapter 10

"Miss Lestrange."

Bellatrix whirled as she walked down the third floor corridor with the Slytherin girls. She frowned when she saw Professors Dippet and Dumbledore standing with a middle-aged witch and an older wizard that Bellatrix did not recognise.

"Will you come with us, Miss Lestrange, if you please?" said Professor Dippet.

"I've got Defence Against the Dark Arts lessons in a moment," Bellatrix said cautiously, and Dippet shook his head.

"Professor Walsh will understand your absence. Come with us, please, Miss Lestrange."

Bellatrix turned to Druella and said furtively, "Tell Tom I've gone with Dippet and Dumbledore."

Then she reluctantly followed the pack of adults away, up some staircases until they reached the Hospital Wing.

"What is this all about, please?" asked Bellatrix, and once they walked into the Hospital Wing, Professor Dumbledore said,

"This is the Minister of Magic, Mr Leonard Spencer-Moon."

"How do you do?" asked the man with the handlebar mustache and the fuzzy grey hair. Bellatrix's mouth fell open. The Minister of Magic had come to Hogwarts? Her heart began to race.

"Hello," she said carefully.

"And this," said Dumbledore, "is Healer Hanna Bovery from St Mungo's. With your consent, Miss Lestrange, the Ministry of Magic would like for a St Mungo's Healer to conduct a full assessment of how your cognitive abilities and senses have been affected - or not - by time travel. Then, Mr Spencer-Moon will ask you a few questions, and you may be on your way."

Bellatrix scowled. "I'm not meant to answer questions."

"I will not ask specifics about the future that will endanger lives," promised the Minister. "Please, if you will allow Healer Bovery to examine you? It is non-invasive."

Bellatrix reluctantly sat on the edge of a bed with curtains around it, and the stern-looking witch pulled up a chair. She opened her leather briefcase and pulled out her wand and a stack of cardboard cards. She flashed Bellatrix a small smile, and Dippet, Dumbledore, and Spencer-Moon all hovered nearby, watching.

"Let us begin with a brief assessment of the five senses," said Healer Bovery. She reached into her leather briefcase and pulled out a small, round sponge. She tapped it with her wand and murmured a little incantation, and then she held it beneath Bellatrix's nose. "What do you smell?"

"Lemon." Bellatrix recoiled from the sponge and stared right at Dumbledore. She made sure her Occlumency shields were all the way up; she could just see him trying to search her mind whilst she was distracted.

"And now?" asked Bovery, and Bellatrix sniffed. She crinkled her nose.

"Coffee."

"The sense of smell has been entirely preserved whilst moving through time and space," noted Healer Bovery. "Now, if you will kindly tell me… how have you found the food in the Great Hall? Has the taste been extraordinary in any way to you?"

"It's tasted just fine," Bellatrix insisted, and Bovery nodded. She held up a card with three blue circles on it, and she asked,

"What do you see here?"

"Three blue circles," Bellatrix said, as if Bovery were insane. Bovery nodded crisply. She tipped her head and commanded,

"Shut your eyes, please."

"I beg your pardon?" Bellatrix didn't feel comfortable shutting her eyes in front of these people. But she finally did it, and she heard Healer Bovary say,

"Tell me when you feel my wand on your cheek."

"There," Bellatrix said in a shaking voice when at last the tip of Bovary's wand touched her cheekbone.

"You may open your eyes," said Healer Bovary. "It is my conclusion that the body has remained entirely intact through the time travel. No significant portion or function has been lost or compromised."

"Well, I could have told you that," Bellatrix snapped.

"Leonard, would you like to speak with her?" asked Dumbledore. "We'll step out. Healer Bovary, if you would come with the Headmaster and myself?"

The three of them left, and the Minister of Magic sank slowly into the chair where the Healer had been. Bellatrix stared right at him and folded her hands in her lap, shrugging a bit.

"What do you want to know, Minister?"

"I am told that you were in Azkaban for stealing food during a war when you fell asleep," said Leonard Spencer-Moon. "May I ask if that war involved Grindelwald?"

Bellatrix just shook her head a little and whispered, "Those are not things that should be discussed."

"You're quite right." Spencer-Moon nodded. "So, let us discuss what happened to  _you_. You were in a prison cell. Were you eighteen years old?"

"Thirty," Bellatrix said smoothly, and Spencer-Moon nodded slowly. He looked around and smirked.

"Must be interesting to be back at school."

"So it is," Bellatrix nodded. "I quite liked school in my time. Not much changed between now and my own school days."

"No?" Spencer-Moon seemed relieved to hear that. He sighed and licked his bottom lip as he asked cautiously, "Did you come here for a specific purpose?"

"No, I did not. I was watching a rat eat my gruel, and then I lay down upon my straw mattress, and I shut my eyes. And when I opened my eyes, I was in a bed in the Slytherin girls' dormitory in my eighteen-year-old body."

"How very intriguing." Spencer-Moon took a long, trembling breath. He shrugged a bit. "There are dozens of examples of this happening throughout history. People appear, seemingly out of thin air, with knowledge they could only possess if they had come from the future. But because they come back, the futures these people have lived very rarely come to pass. You see, by the very nature of your being here, certain changes will inevitably happen. Do you understand that your memories will likely not be recreated exactly as they occurred? Do you understand that we will not be able to send you, erm,  _home?_ "

"This is home now," Bellatrix said firmly. "I will make a life for myself here. I will find purpose here. The Universe wanted me to move, so I moved. I am a traveller. I have travelled. I will make my existence in this place."

Spencer-Moon nodded again. He rose slowly from his chair, and he folded his hands before his robes.

"Thank you for your time, Miss Lestrange. You may return to your lessons."

* * *

"Bella."

She looked up from the History of Magic essay she was writing at the desk in the Common Room to see Tom striding toward her. He visibly gulped and leaned down over the desk.

"Come into my room."

"Is something wrong?" Bellatrix asked, and he breathed quickly through his nose as he informed her,

"I've had another letter delivered via Caeso Malfoy."

"Oh." Bellatrix quickly packed up her parchment and textbook and buckled her bag, and she rose and followed Tom toward the boys' dormitories. They hurried toward the Head Boy's room, and once they were inside, Tom shut the door behind them and pulled an envelope out of the breast of his robes.

"Bella." He held it out to her. "Things are… things are moving more quickly than I'd anticipated."

"Really, Master?" Bellatrix dropped her school bag and took the envelope from him. She opened it and pulled out the letter inside, which was written in elegant script.

_Mr Riddle,_

_On the second of February, Hogwarts students will visit Hogsmeade. Inside The Three Broomsticks, at a quiet booth in the back corner, you will see an ancient-looking wizard in a dark grey hat, sipping a Butterbeer and eating sausages. That wizard will be me. Come and sit with that wizard, Mr Riddle._

_Bring your time traveller._

_G.G._

Bellatrix's heart thudded in her chest. She tried to swallow but failed, and when she looked up to Tom, she felt frightened.

"First the Ministry, now Grindelwald," she whispered. "Everyone wants a piece of the time traveller."

"He probably wants to know some information about his defeat by Dumbledore. You need to give him all of that information whilst withholding the fact that I become powerful," Tom stressed. "If he knows that I become the great and powerful Lord Voldemort, he'll simply eliminate me as a threat to his dominance. We need him to see me right now as a subservient ally. Make things up if you have to; just say that the world went on after Grindelwald with Dumbledore mostly in charge."

"That's not a lie," Bellatrix pointed out, and Tom scoffed loudly.

"Disgusting," he snarled. "I despise that man."

"Wait a minute," Bellatrix said, frowning. "How can either of us go to Hogsmeade? We haven't got permission slips."

"Permission slips?" Tom looked at her like she was mad. "No. All students over third year get to go."

"Dumbledore must've come up with that rule later," Bellatrix mused, "or someone else did. In my time, you had to have a permission slip, even once you were seventeen."

"Huh. No, we can go." Tom tucked her hair behind her ear. "An ancient wizard in a dark grey hat sipping Butterbeer and eating sausages. Think he'll be using Polyjuice Potion with the hair of some random Muggle or something?"

"I dunno. He seems skilled at hiding. Remember all those stories about him in New York in the twenties?" Bellatrix asked. "When he was hiding out as Percival Graves? He's a master of disguise. I'm sure he knows what he's doing."

"But it's still almost three weeks away!" Tom lamented. "How will I possibly wait that long? I'll be crawling out of my skin by then."

"Perhaps I could distract you in the meantime," Bellatrix suggested, and she started to loosen his tie. He raised his eyebrows, and as she pulled his tie off over his head, he whispered,

"I like that idea."

"Hmm." Bellatrix unbuttoned his shirt and pushed it away with his robe, yanking it from his trousers. She unbuckled his belt and his trousers, and she let him do the rest as she started to strip off her own robe, jumper, shirt, tie, and skirt.

"Are we… erm… what are we doing?" Tom asked cautiously. Bellatrix didn't really have a good answer for that.

"We're getting naked in your room, Master," she replied with feigned confidence. She laughed a little, unbuckling her bra and tossing it away. Tom stared at her breasts, and she caressed them a little.

"Touch them?" she asked softly, and he stepped up to her and cushioned one breast with his hand. He squeezed a little and dragged his thumb over her peaked nipple, and he groaned a bit. His cock was getting hard, she could see. The purplish tip was rising, edging outward, and the organ seemed hungry for attention. She reached for him and wrapped her fingers around him, pulling her thumb back and forth over his tip until a dewy drop of fluid spread over it.

"Bed. Bed, bed, bed." Tom started to push Bellatrix, and she giggled a bit until she saw how serious his face was. He wanted her. Badly. Now. She could sense that. She was about to be taken by him, she realised. He was a virgin, wasn't he? Was this body of hers virginal? She wondered if it would hurt to receive his cock in this form.

"Wait! Wand." Bellatrix snatched her wand off the ground and aimed it at her lower abdomen. " _Breviter Sterilatatem._ "

"Oh. Right." Tom shook his head; he hadn't been thinking at all about contraception. Bellatrix threw up one eyebrow. The last thing either of them needed right now was a child thrown into the mix of everything. She let him push her toward the bed again, feeling herself flush wet between her legs, and she landed with an  _oof_  on the blankets when he pushed her up. He crawled atop her, and Bellatrix begged him,

"Slow down, My Lord."

"No. I can't." Tom was moving with incredible urgency. Well, of course he was. He'd never done this before. Bellatrix wasn't counting on a lot of foreplay tonight, and she didn't wind up getting any. Instead, he just spread her legs wide with his hands and guided his cock toward her entrance, and he thrust right in.

"Ahhhh!" Bellatrix arched her back up and threw her arms around Tom's shoulders, and he froze.

"Pain?" He seemed confused. Bellatrix nodded quickly, for she'd felt a rip and a tear, and she whispered,

"This body's never done it before, apparently. Sorry; there might be a little blood on your sheets."

"Easily Siphoned," Tom said dismissively. He started to thrust in and out, and Bellatrix whispered,

"Oh, please slow down."

"Sorry." He finally listened to her, gliding in and out more regularly, more smoothly, and Bellatrix pulled him down until she could burrow her head up against his chest. He smelled good, like the ocean. She felt his cock hit her cervix over and over, felt him spreading and stretching her, and she murmured,

"I like it."

"So do I." He huffed a breath and bent to kiss her, the angle made awkward by their height difference. He finally sat up onto his knees and held Bellatrix's hips as he accelerated his pumping motions, and he shut his eyes as he asked her bluntly, "Are you going to finish?"

"N-No, probably not," Bellatrix said honestly. "Don't worry about me, Master."

"All right, because I've got…  _ungh…_ ten seconds." He screwed his eyes shut tightly and let his mouth fall open, and then his head dropped back and his cock was throbbing and twitching inside Bellatrix's body.

He stayed inside of her for an awfully long time, until he started to go soft, and his come drizzled out between them when at last he withdrew. Bellatrix lay where she was, sore and tired, and she stared at the ceiling.

"Master?" she whispered, and as he lay down beside her, breathlessly staring at her, he hummed,

"Mmm-hmm?"

"I'm just as in love with you here as I was there. Maybe more."

He was quiet for a very long time after that. He finally pulled Bellatrix up against his body and said softly,

"It would seem as though I was very foolish in ignoring you so thoroughly in the life you lived. But I won't ignore you here, Bella. You are… very special. Very special to  _me_ , you understand?"

"Yes, My Lord." Bellatrix's eyes burned. He picked up her left arm and dragged his thumb around her dormant Dark Mark.

"I am glad they didn't do a comprehensive physical examination of me today," Bellatrix mused. "They would have seen my Mark."

"They were idiots. Testing your sense of smell. Pah. I wonder if they'd be interested to know that your body became virginal when you moved through time and space," Tom said in a low, angry voice. "And the nerve of the Minister, asking you about Grindelwald."

"My father held a door open for me yesterday," Bellatrix noted, almost dreamily. She remembered the way Cygnus Black III had held open the Potions classroom door and given Bellatrix a very strange look. Then he'd kept the door open for Druella and smiled warmly at her. "Do you suppose they'll marry and I'll be born here?"

"I certainly hope so," Tom sighed. There was a long quiet then, and he finally reminded both of them, "We're going to meet with Gellert Grindelwald in a few weeks."

"Yes, Master," Bellatrix breathed. "We are."

"I'll be ready," Tom vowed. "I will be prepared for that meeting. Now. It's almost curfew, Miss Lestrange. Go get dressed."

**Author's Note: So Dumbledore** _ **did**_   **get the Ministry involved. And Grindelwald is certainly interested in Bellatrix, too. And lemons, yay. LOL. Thank you so very much to those who took the time to review after the last chapter. I really do appreciate it so much. Thank you for reading.**


	11. Chapter 11

"It's going to be fine," Bellatrix murmured gently, and Tom reached for her hand and squeezed it. The two of them were walking in a pack of Slytherin students out of the Great Hall, on their way to go out to Hogsmeade with the students who were permitted to go.

"Bellatrix?" asked Druella, and Bellatrix turned over her shoulder as they walked. Druella came up beside her daughter, flicked her eyes to where Bellatrix held Tom's hand, and smiled a little. She asked carefully, "Will you be joining us girls shopping and in Madam Pudifoot's?"

"Oh. Erm… I was going to be with Tom," Bellatrix said apologetically. "I don't mean to -"

"No. Entirely understood," Druella nodded, squeezing at Bellatrix's shoulder. She walked off, and Bellatrix said very softly to Tom as they walked outside,

"You know, she always was really a very good mother. I was a rather hellish daughter for her. Torturing toads and things when I was a little girl. But she dealt with me beautifully."

"And your father?"

"Distant," Bellatrix said simply. She raised her eyes to Tom and shrugged. "He was distant."

Tom nodded. "So was mine."

They walked in silence after that, their hands clasped together as they meandered down the path that led away from Hogwarts. Bellatrix started to feel very anxious the closer they got to Hogsmeade. What if Grindelwald was setting some sort of trap for them?  
"You have your Occlumency shields up like a fortress, I presume?" Tom asked, and Bellatrix just nodded. He was right, of course, to be concerned. Gellert Grindelwald was known to be a powerful Legilimens. He would see straight into Bellatrix's mind if she wasn't careful, and what he would see was Lord Voldemort. If he sensed Lord Voldemort, he would eliminate Tom Riddle. Everything would be lost.

"Bella," said Tom in a low, hissing sort of voice, "I forgot to bring money. I can Conjure coins, but they'll be outed as counterfeits. I wasn't thinking clearly; I was distracted. Damn it. Damn it!"

"It's fine, Master." Bellatrix petted at his arm and then tapped the little purse of coins she had beneath her outer robe. "I've got plenty of money. We'll buy him his food."

"Who shall we tell people he is? People will ask. Who was that old man we were eating with?" Tom gulped as they walked, and Bellatrix murmured back,

"A relative on your mother's side. Long lost."

"Right. No one will know him, anyway. No one ever questions me," Tom said rather confidently. They approached the Three Broomsticks, and when they neared the door, Tom held it for Bellatrix. He paused, his hand on the door handle, and he stared right into her eyes.

"Are you ready for this?"

"No," she admitted. "Are you?"

"No," he whispered, "but it's time, so let's go."

He opened the door, and she walked slowly inside. The pub was bustling, with students finding tables and staff sitting together sipping firewhisky and Butterbeer. Bellatrix scanned the place with her eyes, and then she froze.

Over in the corner, in a wooden booth cradled up against the wall, was a wizened little man whose dark grey cap sat jauntily upon his head. He was staring down into a mug of Butterbeer, and there was a plate of sausages before him.

Gellert Grindelwald.

"Bella." Tom reached for her hand again and squeezed at her fingers, and she nodded to acknowledge that she'd seen Grindelwald. She silently followed Tom through the Three Broomsticks, past the table of Hufflepuff fourth-years who were blowing bubbles in their drinks, past the table of professors who were chatting animatedly. She followed him all the way to the back, quiet corner where Grindelwald sat in disguise, and she watched as Tom asked cautiously,

"Pardon me, sir; may we join you?"

"Depends," growled the man in a bit of an accent. He raised pale eyes to them and asked, "Are your goals admirable?"

"I like to think so," said Tom firmly, and Grindelwald smirked rather playfully.

"Sit down… Mr Riddle," he whispered. Tom slid onto the wooden bench, and Bellatrix joined him. Grindelwald stared at her, and he immediately choked out a little laugh.

"Occlumency from the both of you," he said in his accent, tipping his head. "What are you hiding from me?"

"The future," Bellatrix said honestly. "Some things are best left unknown. But if you ask, I will tell what I can."

"July," said Grindelwald in a croak. "He comes to me?"  
"People will think he is the only one to stop you," said Bellatrix. "He puts it off as long as he possibly can, until your deeds are so terrifying that he can put it off no longer. Then at last, you and he meet again, and you are destroyed."

"No." Grindelwald shook his head and stared out the slightly dirty, icy window. "He couldn't ruin me even if he wanted to."

"I always wondered why he didn't kill you," Bellatrix mused, and Tom shot her a look of warning. But she barreled on, "I always wondered why he let you go to Nurmengard instead of just letting the last thing you saw be a flash of green. But I know now. He's a coward. He couldn't do it. He couldn't kill you. So you were wasting away for decades in your own fortress whilst he was running Hogwarts and heading up the Wizengamot. Whilst Mudbloods had free reign over -"

"Stop it," Grindelwald snapped. "That is a future I will not endure. We will not allow this to come to pass. As for you."

He turned to Tom and sized him up, looking him up and down.

"Caeso Malfoy tells me to expect great things from you. Do you wish to join my movement, boy?"

"I do wish it, and it is with gratitude that I accept any offer of servitude toward you." Tom bowed his head toward Grindelwald, which made Bellatrix feel a little ill. She concealed her feelings with tight Occlumency. Grindelwald hesitated, though, for too long of a moment.

"I sense incredible ambition from you, boy," he told Tom. "Incredible ambition. One day, you might not hesitate the way Dumbledore did."

"I vow you my loyalty, sir," Tom said seriously, raising his eyes, and Grindelwald narrowed his gaze. He sighed and said,

"Let us see what comes to pass once Dumbledore is gone. Shall we?"

Bellatrix looked over her shoulder, nervous that someone could hear them talking like this.

"I've warded up this booth tighter than a virgin's cunt," Grindelwald informed Bellatrix bluntly, and her mouth dropped open. He laughed a little, and he slid his plate toward her. "Sausage?"

Bellatrix just shook her head, and Grindelwald pulled his plate back. He picked up a sausage with his bare fingers and put it into his mouth, biting and chewing. He washed it down with Butterbeer and then told Tom,

"I have things to do on the Continent in the next three months. Plans. None of it is your business. But I'm working closely with Muggle associates of mine - yes, I know; it sounds bizarre, but I'm using them to my advantage - to gain footholds in areas of resistance. Soon enough, all of Continental Europe will have bent to my will. I will control all of wizarding Europe by May. And at that point, when I do, I will come back to Hogwarts. You and your time traveller will sneak me into the school. Find a way to get me in from Hogsmeade to the castle. We'll arrange the date and time. When I come, I'll fight Dumbledore in a place where he'll be in defensive mode, and therefore weaker."

"I know how you can get in," said Bellatrix, feeling numb. She nodded vigorously. "There are tunnels. A few of the students used them to sneak to Hogsmeade during my years at school. Some boys in Slytherin found a passage behind the statue of Gregory the Smarmy. It leads to the Hog's Head, so they could never use it, because Aberforth Dumbledore would always catch them."

"Well. That's not nothing." Grindelwald smiled rather happily. "I'll have to be careful with Aberforth myself, but a passage in the Hog's Head that leads to the school is not nothing. Write to me with all the information you have about it, girl."

"Yes, sir," she nodded. He huffed a breath and demanded,

"Was he still alive, when you fell asleep?"

"Dumbledore, you mean?" she asked, and he nodded. Bellatrix scoffed a little and said,

"He was annoyingly alive, yes."

"And  _him_?" Grindelwald flicked his eyes to Tom. Bellatrix froze. Grindelwald was suspecting something about Tom, she could tell. She gulped and said almost honestly,

"I didn't know a Tom Riddle in my time. For all intents and purposes, he and I met first here."

"I see." Grindelwald did not seem wholly convinced, but he looked back and forth between Tom and Bellatrix and whispered, "We're going to see to it, ladies and gentlemen, that Albus Dumbledore is dead by the summer. It would seem there is… no other way."

He sounded almost regretful about that. His face twisted a little strangely, and he let out an odd little sound, halfway between laughter and some sort of angry grunt. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a few coins, which he plunked onto the table. It was more than enough for his Butterbeer and sausage, and he insisted to Tom and Bellatrix,

"Get yourselves something to eat and drink. My treat. We'll celebrate more in a few months. For now, I've a Portkey to Dijon. Goodbye."

"Pleasure to meet you, sir," said Tom stiffly, and Grindelwald just nodded. He flicked his eyes over Bellatrix and asked her as he stood,

"Do they remember me?"

"Not the way I think you'd like, sir," Bellatrix answered, and Grindelwald gnawed his lip as he nodded.

"For the greater good," he whispered, and Tom bowed his head as he said almost contritely,

"For the greater good."

Bellatrix met Grindelwald's disguised, pale eyes and nodded once. She picked up one of the coins he'd left, and she turned it over in her fingers.

"For the greater good."

**Author's Note: Sorry this chapter is kind of short, but I wanted to give Grindelwald's meeting its own chapter! I'm sure you understand why. So now we have a plan - he's coming to Hogwarts via a sneaky passage, and hopefully Dumbledore will be on playing defense. Will Grindelwald come alone, or will he bring backup? Will Bellatrix and Tom fight, too? These plans and more will be worked out! But first… more life at Hogwarts. Mwah hahaha. Thanks as always for reading and reviewing. :) Twenty points to your House if you review.**


	12. Chapter 12

"I'm in love, I'm in love, I'm in love, I'm in love, I'm in love!"

"Druella!" giggled Sutton, and as Druella collapsed into her seat at the Slytherin table, Ivy Greengrass said primly,

"You're in love with Cygnus Black, I presume."

"Yes. Ahhh." Druella sighed heavily and leaned her chin onto her hands. Bellatrix winced. She shouldn't be surprised to hear Druella speak of being in love. Today was Valentine's Day, after all. Still, it was rather obnoxious to hear her mother talk about being in love with her father.

"He really loves you back, does he?" asked Ivy, sounding jealous, and Druella showed everyone the ring on her left finger. Bellatrix gasped, almost in horror.

"Is that… is that an  _engagement_  ring, Druella?" She exclaimed, and Druella nodded vigorously.

"He got down on one knee in the Viaduct this morning," she told them, "and he asked me to marry him! He asked me if I'd be his forever!"

Druella gave Bellatrix a weighty look, and Bellatrix shook her head minutely. This wasn't how it was meant to happen. Her parents weren't meant to marry until 1946. They didn't get engaged until December of 1945, after leaving school. That was the story Bellatrix had always been told.

"You're going to wait until June of 1946 to be married, aren't you?" Bellatrix practically snarled, and Druella's eyes went wide.

"June of 1946? We had thought perhaps we'd marry just after leaving school."

"May we speak privately, please?" Bellatrix growled, and Druella's cheeks pinked as she rose from where she sat and walked away from the table with Bellatrix. She followed her to the edge of the Great Hall.

"Mother!" Bellatrix hissed, and Druella's eyes went wide. Bellatrix threw her hands up. "You could be throwing everything off. You could be making it so that I'm not born! You must be cautious! You and Father didn't marry until June of 1946. Come now; I know you can wait."

"Some things are difficult to wait for, Bellatrix," Druella said in a trim little voice, and Bellatrix scoffed.

"You mean sex."

"Bellatrix!" Druella sounded scandalised, so Bellatrix rolled her eyes.

"The spell you want is  _Breviter Sterilatatem._  Allows for one-time sterility.  _Breviter Sterilatatem._ "

"How do  _you_  know that spell?" Druella asked accusingly. "Are you and Tom…?"

"None of your business!" Bellatrix replied shrilly. "You just stay unmarried until the summer of 1946, Mother, or you may very well erase your own daughters from existence!"

"Is there a problem, ladies?"

Bellatrix looked up to see that Tom had sidled up to the conversation. She felt her cheeks go hot, and she shook her head quickly as she whispered,

"No. Everything's fine. Sorry."

"Druella?" prompted Tom meaningfully. He tossed up an eyebrow and crossed his arms. Druella looked ashamed and then promised,

"I'll wait to marry Cygnus until the timeframe Bellatrix says," Druella said delicately, and Tom shot a look to Bellatrix. She shrugged a little and told Tom,

"She got engaged to my father this morning. The timeline's all off."

"The only timeline that matters is that they have a daughter in September of 1951," said Tom. "I think. And I'm not even certain that  _that_  matters, frankly, since for all I know there are infinite Universes, infinite timelines coexisting all at the same time."

"What?" Bellatrix felt confused by that, and Druella looked almost horrified.

"Are you saying that in some… what, alternate Universe, I've got six sons?" she posited, and Tom shrugged up a shoulder.

"Why not? We know because of Time Turners that a person can have two iterations of themselves in the same timeline. Who's to say there can't be two iterations of them in two separate timelines? Or thirty iterations in thirty timelines? Or a hundred thousand iterations in a hundred thousand timelines?"

"Tom, you're making my head hurt," Druella complained, and Bellatrix laughed a little as she asked,

"Don't you want to congratulate Druella and Cygnus on their engagement?"

"Of course I do." Tom seemed to snap to rights then, and he drew Druella's left hand into his. He studied the small diamond ring that Cygnus had given her, a solitary stone set into yellow gold, and he fibbed, "Why, it's the most beautiful ring I've ever seen. Congratulations, Druella. What a beautiful bride I'm sure you'll make in… when will it be, Bella?"

"June of 1946," Bellatrix said firmly, and Tom nodded, squeezing Druella's hand. She eyed her daughter and let Tom release her, and she said patiently,

"I'm not in the business of getting anyone disappeared. Whether there are a hundred thousand Universes or just this one, I'm not taking any chances with your life, Bellatrix. Believe you me; I'll be getting pregnant in the winter of 1950 into 1951."

"Ugh. Druella." Bellatrix rolled her eyes playfully. "I don't need to think about the  _how_ , just the  _when_ , if you please."

"Of course." Druella winked at Tom and then told Bellatrix, "You know, your father really is a fine young man. He's kind, funny, athletic, aristocratic… he has a lot going for him."

"Well, undoubtedly, that's why he asked you to marry him." Bellatrix put her hand on her mother's shoulder. "Go show your ring to the girls."

Druella grinned and then hurried away, leaving Tom standing near the edge of the Great Hall alone with Bellatrix.

"Well," he said jauntily, "Happy Valentine's Day."

"Do you celebrate it?" she asked him. "I wouldn't think you would."

"No? You wouldn't think a boy like Tom Riddle would take note of a maudlin holiday celebrating love? Whyever not?" Tom teased. He pulled something out from his robes, and Bellatrix saw that it was a box of jewelry. Tom smirked and promised, "It's not an engagement ring."

Bellatrix felt her face go hot as she took the small box from him and cracked it open. Inside was a pair of emerald and diamond earrings - silver serpents wrapped around the stones. Bellatrix gasped at how beautiful the earrings were, and she immediately took one out. But then she hesitated and whispered,

"My ears aren't pierced."

"I know," Tom said, "but I also made you these earrings, and so I reckoned you could have one of the girls pierce them for you in the dormitory tonight."

"Master." Bellatrix swatted a little at him, something she never would have done in their old life, and he laughed heartily.

"Do you like them?" he asked.

"I love them," she said seriously. "Thank you."

"Will you pierce your ears for the earrings?" he asked, and when she raised her eyes, she felt the weight behind the question. She nodded slowly and told him,

"I would do absolutely anything in the entire world for you, My Lord. My Master." She whispered the words so that no one else could hear. He took her right hand in his and kissed her knuckles, and he stared into her eyes as if there were something else that he wanted to say. But he finally just mumbled,

"Dumbledore is staring daggers into us both."

"Good. Let him stare his daggers. We'll stab him to death soon enough," Bellatrix hissed, and Tom's eyes flashed. His cheeks went a little pink, and he whispered,

"Get those ears pierced. I want to see those earrings on you. Happy Valentine's Day."

* * *

"Sutton, be  _careful!_ " Ivy fretted.

"Oh, I don't think I can do this." Sutton backed away from the chair where Bellatrix was sitting with her hair tied into damp pigtail braids. Bellatrix scowled up at Sutton, who was aiming her wand at Bellatrix's ear.

"Druella!" Bellatrix called. "Please, will you come and pierce my ears since Sutton's too afraid to perform a simple Puncturing Charm?"

"It's not a simple Puncturing Charm when it's on a bloody body part!" Sutton complained, but Druella came over and said loudly,

"Those earrings from Tom Riddle are getting worn. Bellatrix, did you already apply the Butterfly Weed Balm to the ears so it doesn't hurt as badly?"

_Yes, Mum,_  Bellatrix almost said, but instead she just nodded. Druella came over with her thin, elegant wand aimed at Bellatrix's right ear, and she cleared her throat.

" _Pungere._ "

The puncture wound quickly healed up thanks to Druella's medical magic, and soon enough Bellatrix had two pierced ears into which she could press her new diamond and emerald earrings. She admired them in the full-length mirror as the other girls gathered round.

"He  _made_  these?" Ivy asked in awe, and Bellatrix nodded.

"He can do anything, I think."

"Perhaps you ought to thank him," said Theodora, who was a Prefect and was just coming in. "He's waiting outside in the Common Room, and he told me to send you out."

"What? It's after curfew!" Bellatrix protested. Theodora smirked and shrugged, and the other girls practically shoved Bellatrix out of the door. She hurried out of the dormitory and down the corridor, and when she reached the Common Room, Tom Riddle was standing there holding three very dark red roses with long stems.

"Hello," he said quietly, and Bellatrix looked around realising they were all alone.

"Hello," she replied. She walked up to him, and he handed her the three roses. His throat bobbed visibly, and he told her,

"I have something to say."

"Then you should say it, Master," Bellatrix nodded.

"Your earrings look beautiful," he said, and she grinned.

"Thank you, My Lord."

"That is not what I need to say," he whispered, licking a lip. Bellatrix frowned and nodded again.

"What do you need to say, Master?"

"I…" Tom looked like his throat had gone very dry, like he was on the verge of being sick on the ground. "I feel… I need to tell you that I…"

He was silent then, for a very long while, and Bellatrix just stared. Surely he wasn't… he didn't mean…

"I care very deeply about you, Bellatrix," he finally blurted. "So Happy Valentine's Day. That is what I wanted to say."

He looked disappointed with himself all of a sudden, touching at his forehead, and he muttered,

"G-Goodnight."

"May I have a kiss, please?" Bellatrix asked. Tom nodded, walked up to her, and seized her face in his hands. He kissed her long and deep, his tongue searching, his lips pressing, his voice groaning. And when at last he broke away, he whispered,

"I need to tell you that you are very, very… important. You understand?"

"I understand, Master," Bellatrix grinned. She could have never imagined  _him_  telling  _her_  that she was important. But here they were, kissing, with her holding roses from him and wearing his jewelry.

"I love you," she let out, quite against her will, and he just nodded. He nodded and nodded until at last he whispered,

"Go to bed, my sweet and vicious soldier."

She nearly fainted at that, and when she raised her eyes, he murmured,

"I'm terribly fond of you, you know."

"Goodnight, My Lord," she said softly. "Thank you for the earrings. And the roses."

"Goodnight, Bellatrix," he replied gently, letting her go and watching her as she stalked off back toward the girls' dormitory.

**Author's Note: Sorry for the delay in updating (by my standards). I am in the middle of a family emergency and therefore wrote when I could. Thanks for understanding and for all the recent feedback. Hope you enjoy.**


	13. Chapter 13

"I'm in love with you."

Bellatrix nearly dropped her entire jar of bat fangs into her cauldron. She looked up to see Tom staring at her from where he was working. Horace Slughorn had stepped out of the Potions classroom during their private Advanced Potions Course lesson to deal with two Ravenclaw second-year students in his office. In the meantime, Bellatrix and Tom were left to brew up their Computational Strength potions, which gave the drinker immense mathematical ability for a short period of time.

Then he'd said  _that_ , out of absolutely nowhere.

"I… I beg your pardon?" Bellatrix asked softly, and Tom said quite confidently,

"I meant to tell you the other night. I'm not sure why I failed to do so. I'm not failing now. I am in love with you, Bellatrix."

Her jaw fell open, and he jabbed his stirring stick toward her cauldron.

"Stir that, or you'll have another cauldron explode in your face."

Bellatrix snapped to rights and stirred her potion quickly. She drizzled in some Syrup of Hellebore and turned up her flame so that her potion would boil, and she murmured,

"Are you very certain?"

"I wouldn't say it if I wasn't certain, would I?" Tom snapped, and he calmly stirred his own potion. Bellatrix felt a little cold then, absolutely shocked by the fact that he'd revealed this to her. She whispered desperately,

"I love you, too, Master."

"Good. Let's finish our potions," he said. Four hours later, after dinner, he walked up to her in the Great Hall and said under his breath,

"My room. Just before curfew. I've no patrols tonight."

"Yes, My Lord," Bellatrix replied. She tingled from head to toe. Druella walked up to her and asked,

"Everything all right? You've gone white as a sheet."

"I'm just… it's Tom," Bellatrix smiled. Druella threw up her eyebrows and asked disapprovingly,

"You're going to his room alone after curfew, aren't you?"

"Just because you'll be my mother someday does not mean you can police my behaviour now!" Bellatrix hissed, and Druella gave a conciliatory nod but said,

"It would be a damnable shame if either of you got expelled. Do be careful. We'll cover for you."

"Thanks." Bellatrix huffed a breath and whispered, "I'm in love with him. He's in love with me."

"He told you that?" Druella asked in disbelief, and Bellatrix nodded, her eyes welling.

"He did."

"Well, he must  _really_  mean it, then," said Druella. Bellatrix just smirked and pushed her curls out of her hair. It seemed to take an eternity before curfew. Bellatrix snuck into Tom's room just before, rushing inside in her nightgown and dressing-gown, leaving behind a room full of giggling Slytherin girls.

"Hello," said Tom when she stepped into his room. He looked less nervous this time round than he had the last few times Bellatrix had come into this space. She fingered the necklace around her neck, the one he'd given her in November at the autumn ball. She'd worn it for some reason she wouldn't be able to articulate. It had just felt necessary, like something that simply needed to be worn.

Bellatrix wrapped her arms around Tom's stomach and moved up to him, embracing him as she lay her head on his chest. He seemed to quite like that, rubbing at her hair where she lay on the chest of his pyjama shirt and making a low sound from the back of his throat. Bellatrix happily breathed in the scent of him, heady and masculine, and she whispered,

"Did you mean it?"

"I did." He kissed at her forehead and explained, "I was afraid to say it on Valentine's Day. Afraid that feeling  _love_  would weaken me, would make me a fool. But I see now that it's entirely the opposite. You strengthen me in my life. I can see that in your memories. The closer I am to you, the stronger I will be. And so, loving you is key to being stronger, I feel."

"But do you actually love me?" Bellatrix asked, for it was starting to seem as though he believed that he just needed to love her if he was to conquer his enemies. He nodded down to her and assured her,

"I genuinely do love you."

"Perhaps… erm… perhaps you could show me," Bellatrix suggested meekly, and Tom cocked up an eyebrow.

"Show you that I love you?" He scoffed a little. "Haven't I done that? I've given you jewelry and roses, and I -"

"I meant physically," Bellatrix specified. "Show me… physically."

"Oh…  _oh._ " Tom raised his eyebrows and looked pleasantly surprised. He asked her, "What did you have in mind?"

"Well," Bellatrix teased, beginning to unbutton the shirt Tom was wearing, "You could drill into me from behind. Master."

"Drill into you from behind?" Tom's eyes went wide as saucers, and he gulped visibly. He seemed almost afraid of that concept, and Bellatrix grinned broadly.

"I promise it would feel good, My Lord," she reassured him, petting at his arm. Tom licked his bottom lip and ordered her,

"Take off your nightgown and get onto the bed."

"Yes, Master," Bellatrix smiled. She untied the rope round her waist and pushed off her velvet dressing gown. She pulled off her nightgown over her head, revealing the fact that she had on no knickers whatsoever. Tom seemed to like that fact very much. He reached between her thighs and played with her a little, his fingers dancing until he whispered again,

"Go get on the bed, Bella."

"Yes, Master," she murmured again. Bellatrix hurried over to his bed and knelt, presenting herself to him and feeling like a cow. She didn't care. She didn't mind that she was like an animal in heat showing herself to him just now. She just spread her legs and let him see her womanhood, and she heard him groaning softly from behind her. She heard clothing falling to the ground in soft rumples, and then the bed shifted and heaved as Tom crawled onto the bed. In the meantime, Bellatrix was getting wetter by the moment, more and more until she felt like she was dripping. Suddenly his fingers were there, gliding along her folds and twisting inside of her, and he mumbled,

"I'm not going to last. When am I ever going to last with you?"  
"With experience, Master," Bellatrix laughed over her shoulder. "We just both need more experience with the other, don't you think?"

"Yes." Tom pumped his fingers inside of her and drew circles on her clit with his thumb just like she'd shown him to do, and she squirmed. He kept going, kept fingering her until she lost herself, and when at long last she came, she knew he could see every contraction, every flinch of her body in its pleasure. His cock replaced his fingers soon enough, and he stretched and filled Bellatrix with every push. In and out, in and out. Gliding, sliding, thrusting, pushing. It felt so good. She dug her face into the pillow and gripped it tightly and cried out. She said his name over and over again. Not  _Tom,_ but  _Master. Master, Master, Master._ Eventually he came, too, finishing inside of her with throbs and flinches and then a drizzle of come between them.

He lay beside her on the bed and stared at the ceiling, panting desperately, and he said,

"You're going to help me defeat Dumbledore with Grindelwald. You're going to help me win and become powerful. I know you will. I will need you, Bella. I will need you if I'm to be powerful."

"My Lord, you became powerful without me," Bellatrix insisted,

"And then I failed," Voldemort reminded her. "And I ignored you. And I did not ever love you the way I ought to have done. But I'll do things differently now that I know what I know. Now that you've been sent to this time to warn me. And I really do love you."

Bellatrix reached for his hand and slid her fingers through his.

"I love you, too, Master."

**Author's Note: See all of my previous rants on how I believe Voldemort/Tom Riddle is capable of loving under the right circumstances, even if that love is twisted and off.**

**I apologize for the short chapter and delay in updates. My son has been in the pediatric intensive care unit after an emergency with his epilepsy. We've been dealing with that for the last few days and I haven't been able to write. Writing this chapter has been cathartic and a break from all the stress of the last few days, but I'm not sure when I'll be able to update again. I appreciate your patience in the meantime.**


	14. Chapter 14

"Bellatrix, would you help me? I need a haircut and I'm terrified to do the back myself," said Druella. She stepped out of the showers and toweled off her hair, and Bellatrix gave a conciliatory nod. She was almost used to it, she thought. She was almost used to her mother being her own age. She was almost used to them being peers, being friends instead of her mother being twenty-five years older and having the power dynamic that mothers had with their daughters.

"Let's comb it out," said Bellatrix, bringing Druella up in front of her before the sinks. She shook her head then and said, "You have such thick hair. Easy to see where I got it."

Druella looked round quickly as though to ensure no one else had heard, and she finally laughed a little. Then she whispered,

"Do Narcissa and Andromeda have thick hair, too? Tell me about them."

"I don't think I should. Tom's right; the odds of you having the exact same three children in the same order on the same dates that you did in my life are very slim. You may name us the same, but we won't be the same people. All I can hope is that I don't vanish one day."

"I won't let that happen to you, Bellatrix," Druella said, reaching to squeeze at Bellatrix's hand. Bellatrix pulled her hand slowly away and let Druella finish combing out her thick waves. Druella stood before Bellatrix then and whispered, "You were married? When you went to prison?"

Bellatrix looked out of the bathroom to see that all the rest of the girls were talking softly near the beds. Bellatrix gulped and told her mother quietly,

"To a man called Rodolphus Lestrange. Rudy's son. He and his brother Rabastan and I went to prison for… well… we were in a war, you know. We got into some trouble in the war."

"Perhaps now there won't be a war," Druella suggested, and Bellatrix huffed a sigh. She nodded.

"Perhaps not. Let's cut this hair.  _Diffindo._ " She sliced her wand carefully along Druella's hair. She didn't stop until Druella's waves were evenly cut. Then Bellatrix Vanished the hair that had fallen to the floor, and Druella said gratefully,

"Thanks, Bellatrix."

"Bella. You always called me Bella," she replied, and Druella's eyes went a bit wet. She seemed emotional for a moment as she nodded and said,

"Bella."

* * *

The next day in Defence Against the Dark Arts lessons, Professor Aoife Walsh told them all to line up. They were going to work with a Boggart, Professor Walsh said.

"Professor," called Abraxas Malfoy, "We worked with a Boggart second year."

"Yes, dears, I know," she said, "but it's been five years, and you will soon enough be graduating. You may encounter a Boggart in the attic of your new home, or out in the wild. It's important that you be very skilled with countering one. So we'll work with one again. Now, queue up. Queue up."

They did as Professor Walsh said. One might have thought that Tom Riddle would have budged his way to the front of the queue, but he did no such thing. Instead he went all the way to the back with Bellatrix, who was utterly terrified of her greatest fear being shown to the class. She didn't even know what her greatest fear was, but she knew it wasn't anything as innocent as Sutton's fear of snakes, which was ironic for a Slytherin.

" _Riddikulus!_ " cried Sutton, aiming her wand at the snake, which became a crinkly paper party confection.

"Snakes? Really? I can talk to snakes," bragged Tom from behind Bellatrix. She smiled over her shoulder at him and nodded.

"I've seen you do it. It's magnificent and scary all at once."

"You've seen me speak Parseltongue?" he asked curiously, and Bellatrix nodded.

"You were showing off."

"No. Me?" Tom smirked a little as Abraxas Malfoy stepped up and saw himself with a snapped broken broomstick, the noise of a Quidditch crowd booing him loudly surrounding the Boggart. Abraxas cast the  _Riddikulus_ charm, and suddenly he was soaring away into the air on his broom triumphantly as the crowd cheered. These were more advanced Boggart transformations than they'd performed in their second years.

Dying alone. An abusive father. Falling from a building without a broom and dying when one hit the ground. Failing to get a job after graduation and living penniless.

The fears had grown up with the second-years, too.

At last, the queue got to Bellatrix, and she said quietly to Professor Walsh,

"May I skip my go at this?"  
"No, you may not," Professor Walsh insisted, and Bellatrix gulped as Professor Walsh opened the large cupboard and the Boggart came soaring out again. Suddenly, there was a man lying on the ground, broken and dying. He was middle-aged, in his fifties, but he very obviously resembled the Tom Riddle standing in this room. It was Lord Voldemort as Bellatrix had known him in 1982. And he was dying. He was alone. Her greatest fear was the loss of Lord Voldemort.

Well, she thought, that was probably right. She probably did fear losing him just about more than she feared anything else.

"Is that… me?" whispered Tom from behind her, and Bellatrix just nodded. She aimed her wand at him and tried to think of how to counter the illusion with a  _Riddikulus_ charm. How could she make this funny or silly? The room had gone quiet. The silence was deafening. Bellatrix stared at the groaning, bloodied man on the ground, and when he turned to face her, his lips formed her name in silence. She shut her eyes and murmured,

" _Riddikulus._ "

When she opened her eyes, there was a handsome fifty-five-year-old man in a party hat drinking Champagne.

"Next?" Bellatrix cried, and she stepped aside until Tom was in front of the Boggart. He hesitated, but it was too late. Suddenly there was nothing there; the Boggart had disappeared. And Bellatrix realised what Tom Riddle feared most. He feared oblivion. He feared irrelevance. Death.  _Nothing_ , in its most terrifying and greatest sense. He feared  _nothing._

" _Riddikulus!_ " Tom cried, and the Boggart transformed into a giant purple frog leaping about. Everyone laughed at that, and Tom looked mightily relieved. Professor Walsh put the Boggart back into the cupboard, and the lesson was dismissed. As the Slytherin packs made their way to the Great Hall for lunch, Tom reached for Bellatrix's hand and murmured softly to her,

"You fear my death more than anything else? Is that really how you feel?"

"It's how I've always felt, Master." Bellatrix whispered her reply so that only he could hear. His cheeks went pink, and he nodded. They walked hand-in-hand all the way to the Great Hall, but when they reached the Slytherin table, Professors Dippet and Dumbledore came down from the Head Table and walked immediately in Bellatrix's direction.

"Uh-oh," Bellatrix groaned. "What now?"

Tom squeezed her hand protectively, but when the professors approached, Dippet said,

"Miss Lestrange, if we could have a word? Privately? Thank you, Mr Riddle."

Bellatrix glanced over her shoulder at Tom as she was guided away from the table by Professors Dippet and Dumbledore. She was taken out into the corridor, and her stomach flopped when she saw how serious their faces were.

"Miss Lestrange," Professor Dumbledore asked at once when they were outside the Hall, "When you and Mr Riddle were in Hogsmeade, you sat down and talked with an old man. Who was he?"

"Erm… a relative of Tom's sir," Bellatrix lied. Dumbledore looked entirely unconvinced. He shook his head a little and insisted,

"I'm afraid that makes no sense given what we know of Mr Riddle's genealogy. Try again, Miss Lestrange. Who was the man? Was he a time traveller like you?"

Suddenly that answer seemed smarter. Wiser. Bellatrix blinked, threw up her Occlumency as ferociously as she could, and she whispered,

"Yes. He was… someone I knew. I can't tell you more than that."

Dippet and Dumbledore eyed one another with intense suspicion. Dippet cleared his throat and asked,

"Where did that old wizard go?"

"He said he was going to his old family home in Wales," Bellatrix said, lying through her teeth. "I don't know where that is. He wanted to see his parents again."

"Dumbledore, something's amok with all these travellers," Dippet whispered, and Dumbledore just stared straight at Bellatrix as he asked plainly,

"You're quite certain that the man was from the future? It wasn't, say, a person of significance from our own time here?"

"No, sir, it wasn't," Bellatrix fibbed. Her stomach growled then, and she put her hand to her abdomen. "I'm starved. Please, sirs, may I go eat some lunch?"

"Yes, of course. By all means," said Dumbledore, sighing. He rubbed at his beard a little then and finally said, "I notice that you and Mr Riddle are a couple now. May I ask, Miss Lestrange, whether you and he are close in the future that you lived?"

Bellatrix just stared back at him and shrugged. "You told me not to answer questions, sir."

"So we did. So we did." Dumbledore gave a very knowing nod, stepped aside, and held his hand out grandly. "Please. Go eat some lunch. The House-Elves have prepared something wonderful, I'm very sure."

**Author's Note: My son is still in the Pediatric Intensive Care Unit in the hospital, so I only had a half hour on my laptop while he was sleeping to write this. (A little mental break during a very stressful time, but please forgive any sloppiness). Thank you for your understanding if things get complicated and I have to take a short break from updates. I appreciate you reading and reviewing.**


	15. Chapter 15

Bellatrix was in the middle of History of Magic when Professor Dippet came walking into the classroom. Professor Binns didn't seem to much care or even notice that anyone had entered the room, but all the students murmured with curiosity when the Headmaster walked toward Bellatrix's desk.

"Miss Lestrange?" he whispered. "If I may ask you to come with me?"

Bellatrix scowled as she put her books into her bag and rose from the desk she shared with Tom. His eyes followed her out of the History of Magic classroom, and out in the corridor, Bellatrix watched Professor Dippet shut the large door.

"Miss Lestrange," he said, "there is someone here who would like to visit with you."

"Another Ministry official?" Bellatrix asked tartly, but Dippet smiled a bit, shook his head, and said, "No, no, my dear. Far from that. If you will kindly follow me to the unused classroom next door, we've set everything up."

Bellatrix felt like she was walking into an ambush as she followed Professor Dippet to the room next to the History of Magic classroom. This was a dank, unused space, and as he pulled the door open, Bellatrix shoved aside a cobweb. She followed Professor Dippet into the classroom and saw a pretty witch in her thirties, her brunette hair tied back in a chignon, wearing dark turquoise robes, seated at one of the tables. The witch stood and held out a hand confidently, waving hello.

"Arden Colporter of the  _Daily Prophet_ ," she said. "Pleased to meet you, Miss Lestrange."

"Pleased to meet you," mumbled Bellatrix. She turned to the Headmaster and insisted, "I thought I wasn't meant to answer any questions."

"Well, that's why we are conducting this interview under very strict circumstances, Miss Lestrange," Arden Colporter cut in. "Word of a time traveller at Hogwarts has trickled through the wizarding world, as I'm sure you can imagine. Students telling their parents and everything. Anyway, people are curious."

"But you need not answer a single question that you find dangerous to answer," Dippet insisted, sitting slowly on the opposite side of the table from Arden Colporter. Arden sat, and Bellatrix finally slumped down into the seat.

"What do you want to know, Miss Colporter?" Bellatrix asked, and Arden pulled open her elegant leather briefcase. She extracted a notebook of parchment and a beautiful white self-inking quill. She cleared her throat gently, opened the notebook, and asked quietly,

"What did it feel like?"

"Coming through time, you mean," Bellatrix nodded. She sighed and leaned back in her chair a bit. "It felt like nothing. I fell asleep in Azkaban, and I dreamed, and when I opened my eyes, I was in the Slytherin girls' dormitory."

Arden's thin brows knitted together a bit. "You were in Azkaban. So that isn't just a rumour."

"I was stealing food in a war." Bellatrix gulped. Now Arden's eyebrows went up, and she asked,

"Was it a war like the one we're in now? With the Muggles? Or like with Grindelwald? What can you tell me about Grindelwald?"

"Slow down, Miss Colporter," Bellatrix said calmly. Arden took a deep breath, and Bellatrix licked her lip. "I can tell you absolutely nothing about Gellert Grindelwald; that would be the most irresponsible thing I could possibly do and would cost innumerable lives. It was a war like all wars. Someone wanted power, others didn't want that person to have power. Isn't that what many wars are about?"

"Who wanted power?" asked Arden, but Bellatrix shook her head. Arden nodded. "Lestrange. Were you born into the Lestrange family?"

"No," Bellatrix said, "that was a… it wasn't my original name. I'd prefer not to share what my birth name was."

"Do your parents in this time know they will go on to be your parents?" Arden pondered, touching her fluffy quill to her painted lips. Bellatrix shook her head vehemently and lied,

"No, of course they don't know. That would be catastrophically irresponsible."

"You seek to be responsible with your time travel, it would seem," Arden pointed out, narrowing her eyes a little. She breathed in deeply through her thin nose and said, "You are, I hear, the girlfriend of Tom Riddle. So much is expected of him. He is so academically gifted and charismatic. Tell me, did you know him in the life you lived in the future?"

"You know I can't tell you that." Bellatrix stared at her hands in her lap, trying to hide her face. "But you also know that it is perfectly reasonable to expect much of Tom Riddle."

Suddenly a jolt of fear went through her. Had she just made a grave error in saying that? What if Gellert Grindelwald found out that the time traveller said that much should be expected of Tom Riddle?

"Please don't print that." Bellatrix raised her eyes to Arden Colporter, who suddenly looked fascinated.

"Don't print… what?" Arden asked innocently. "That much is to be expected of Tom Riddle? Why not?"

"Just don't print it." Bellatrix's throat went dry, and she shook her head. Her lips felt like they were going to crack open and her eyes welled. Arden frowned deeply and tipped her head.

"There's something about Tom Riddle's future success that you want to keep secret."

"Don't print that," Bellatrix begged, and Arden set down her quill.

"I'll use journalistic discretion."

"I think this interview is finished, Professor Dippet," Bellatrix said, turning to the Headmaster, "unless Miss Colporter wants to discuss how I am particularly adept at Potions and how I like to watch Quidditch."

"If you'd like to be finished, Miss Lestrange, then you may be excused," said Professor Dippet.

"Thank you. Pleasure to meet you, Miss Colporter," said Bellatrix, and her chair scraped on the ground as she rose and turned to walk from the room.

* * *

Bellatrix rapped her fist on Tom's door. She'd waited to discuss this with him until after dinner, after curfew, even. She'd snuck out of the girls' dormitory and come over to the boys' side, and now she was tapping her knuckles on his door just loudly enough for him to hear.

His door swung open, and he stood there looking tired in his grey pyjamas.

"Bella." He pulled her into the bedroom, and Bellatrix waited for him to shut the door before she informed him,

"I made a terrible mistake today, Master."

"What have you done?" he asked. "Was it something in that meeting? Dippet pulled you out of class for a meeting; I could see it in his head. Where was he taking you?"

"To meet with Arden Colporter," Bellatrix said frantically.

"Arden Colporter," Tom repeated. His face twisted a little. "The  _Daily Prophet_  reporter? What did you say to her?"

"I tried to say as little as possible," Bellatrix moaned quietly. "But she asked me about  _you_ , My Lord. She asked me about you! She asked me about Grindelwald, and you, and -"

"Slow down!" Tom gripped Bellatrix's forearms and pulled her away from the door, over to the armchairs before the fire. "What did she ask, and what did you say?"

"She asked what I could tell her about Grindelwald. I said I could tell her nothing," Bellatrix said very truthfully. "But then she said that I was your girlfriend, and that much was expected of you. I tried not to tell her anything about you, but I wound up telling her that it was right to expect much of you."

Tom's face sank. "You told her that?"

Bellatrix dug her fists into her eyes. "I know. I know, I know, I know. Master, forgive me."

She sank down onto her knees and clutched at the hem of Tom's pyjama shirt. She began to cry, sobbing onto the flannel of his shirt.

"Bellatrix, if she prints that," Tom said gravely, "and Grindelwald sees that you believe much should be expected of me, he'll see me as a threat and try to eliminate me. He won't work with me. He'll fight me."

"I'm sorry! I'm so sorry, Master!" Bellatrix sobbed onto him, holding his waist and digging her forehead into his stomach. She felt Tom's fingers twine into her hair, and he whispered,

"Change of plans."

"Wh-what?" Bellatrix raised her eyes and stared all the way up to his face, and she was shocked to see him smiling. He laughed quietly and said again,

"Change of plans. When Grindelwald comes here to defeat Dumbledore, we let him. We let him defeat Dumbledore. Then I kill Grindelwald… and I look like the hero."

"Master?" Bellatrix pulled herself up slowly to stand, her hands shaking ferociously where she planted them on Tom's chest. "You'll set up Grindelwald to look like the ultimate villain by killing Dumbledore, and then you'll take him out and look like the hero? You'll look like the hero!"

"Let Arden Colporter publish your quote," Tom grinned. "You were right, anyway. Much should be expected of me, Bellatrix."

He kissed her then, deeply, profoundly, and Bellatrix fell into it with all that she had.

**Author's Note: I am extremely sorry for the long gap between updates. My son is out of the Intensive Care Unit but is still in the hospital in a less scary pediatric inpatient unit. We have been dealing with nonstop tests, one seizure after another, new medications, etc. I promise to write when I can do so without sacrificing any attention to my son. Thank you for your patience.**

**As for the story - Yes, Arden Colporter is my 1940s** _ **Daily Prophet**_   **reporter, and you may recognize her from** _ **All The Wrong Choices**_ **and its sequel. Has Bellatrix actually helped Tom by blurting out during the interview? Is Tom right that his plan will work - bring Grindelwald to Hogwarts for a duel where he (hopefully) kills Dumbledore, then kill Grindelwald? Or will stuff hit the fan? Hmm…**

**I promise I will continue updating this story as quickly as is reasonable for me right now. Thank you again for your patience.**


	16. Chapter 16

"Bellatrix."

"Hmm." She hummed against his mouth as he pushed her dressing-gown away, and he whispered,

"Stay for a while."

"It's past curfew, Master," Bellatrix insisted breathlessly. Tom choked out a little laugh and threaded his fingers further into Bellatrix's hair.

"Do you think I care about that? Hmm? Do you think I care one bit about Dippet and Dumbledore and their stupid little rules? Hmm? I am going to be so much more than this school could ever contain."

"Yes, you will." Bellatrix met his eyes then, and she suddenly felt profoundly hungry. She needed him. Desired him. She had a sudden flash of him in her mind - fifty-five years old, just before he'd vanished. Grey scruff, grey hair cropped short. Wrinkles on his scarred face. But his eyes were the same. She whimpered suddenly, feeling very emotional, and Tom cupped her jaws in his hands as he whispered,

"You've got your Occlumency shields down. I can see myself in your mind."

"Sorry." Bellatrix let a tear gurgle up and over her eye and trail down her cheek. Tom brushed it away with his thumb and asked,

"My face was marled. Scarred up. Do you know why?"

"No, Master. I assumed it was… Dark magic you'd done in your years on the Continent. You never… you would have never told me why."

"Mmm-hmm." Tom lowered his eyes and sighed deeply. He whispered, "I think I know what sort of magic. I shall be cautious. I do not wish to destroy myself."

"You weren't destroyed. You were a strong man. You were a physical man," Bellatrix insisted, remembering the way she'd notice things like the veins on his forearms when he'd grip something. She shut her eyes and sucked in breath, and Tom noted,

"You were wildly attracted to me, even though I was so much older than you. Twenty-five years older than you. Why were you so attracted?"

"I… you were everything," Bellatrix said, her eyes still shut. She raised her gaze to him and whispered, "You are everything to me, whether you're twenty-five years older or a few years younger."

"We're the same age here," Tom reminded her. "We're young here. Starting over here. Hmm?"  
"Yes. You have the chance to be everything to everyone," Bellatrix said rather excitedly. "You could be… you could control it all. I will not see you vanish again, Master."

"No. Absolutely not." He breathed slowly, calmly, and his face glowed in the orange light from the fireplace. Bellatrix swallowed hard and whispered,

"I want you."

"Do you? Is the gangly little boy as attractive as that older man?" Tom asked seriously, and Bellatrix smiled up at him, nodding.

"Of course. Master, I want you here. There. Everywhere. All the time."

"Yes." He backed up a little bit, and his voice shook a little as he asked her, "Take off your nightgown… slowly… will you?"

"Yes, Master." Bellatrix adjusted the way she was standing. She rotated her hips a little and tipped them just so, popping up a foot until her heel was up. She dragged at the hem of her nightgown, pulling it slowly up past her knees and thighs. Tom's throat bobbed, and in the pyjama trousers he wore, some tenting began to form. Bellatrix smirked a bit at him, tossing her hair over her shoulder and murmuring,

"More?"

"Take it off," he said in a low growl, drifting his fingers over the growing bulge in his trousers. Bellatrix nodded. She pulled the nightgown slowly up, past her knickers, past her flat stomach, past her bare breasts. She pulled it over her head and let it take its time dragging along her right arm. She finally dropped the nightgown and slid her knickers very, very languorously over her pelvis and backside. She let them slither down over her thighs and past her knees, and she kicked them away as elegantly as she could. She finally stood before Tom, naked in all her eighteen-year-old glory, and she could see that he was panting a little where he stood.

"Shall we dance, Master?" Bellatrix asked, having a wild idea, and Tom blinked quickly as he asked incredulously.

"Dance?"

Bellatrix reached for her wand, swallowing through the dryness in her own throat, and she aimed the wand at the Wizarding Wireless atop the fireplace mantle. She tuned it to a station that was playing a solemn instrumental tune, and she set her wand back down on the armchair. She approached Tom and smiled warmly at him, pulling his left hand into hers. She put her left hand on his shoulder, and he finally wrapped his right arm around her bare torso and planted his hand onto her naked back. They began to rock, and Bellatrix could feel his erection digging into her uncovered abdomen. She curled up her lips and stared up into Tom's eyes, and she whispered,

"I love you, My Lord."

"Bella." He sounded disbelieving, as though there was something in all of this that he couldn't quite process. He licked his bottom lip, hesitated, and then sounded awfully emotional as he admitted, "I love you, too. I think I did even in… even when I got older."

Bellatrix shook her head as they danced, rocking with him as she brushed her thumb over his and squeezed at his shoulder. She insisted softly,

"You hardly noticed me, Master."

"No. Show me a time when we were alone in my office," Tom demanded. " _Legilimens._ "

Bellatrix felt him crash into her mind, and she struggled to keep dancing as he pulled forth a memory that Bellatrix had almost forgotten. She and Lord Voldemort were in his office after a stressful Death Eater meeting.

' _Sit down, Bella,' Voldemort commanded, and Bellatrix sat opposite him. She stared at him across his desk, feeling anxious. Voldemort drummed his fingers on the desk and tipped his head, smiling a little at Bellatrix as he admitted, 'You have a calming presence, despite your nervous energy. It's a strange dichotomy.'_

_Bellatrix laughed a little and shook her head. 'If I can be of any assistance whatsoever to my Master, then I am pleased.'_

' _Mmm-hmm.' Voldemort chewed his lip and asked, 'Are you well?'_

_Bellatrix raised her eyebrows. 'I am, Master. Thank you for asking. I am in good health to fight, and -'_

' _I know. You fight perfectly well. I meant… Nevermind.' Voldemort pulled his hand from the desk and gave a joyless smile. 'You may… you may go, Bella. Thank you.'_

' _Yes, My Lord.' Bellatrix rose, dipped into a deep curtsy, and turned to go. As she left the room, she heard her master say from behind her,_

' _Have a good day, Bella.'_

"I wouldn't exactly call that 'hardly noticing you,'" Tom said, and somehow Bellatrix kept dancing with him as she cried silently. She hadn't realised how much the memory would affect her. She shrugged and said,

"It didn't seem… it seemed different at the time."

"I was obviously very fond of you," Tom nodded. "I was a coward."

"A coward? You? Never." Bellatrix shook her head vehemently, stopping the dance, but Tom took her face in his hands and murmured,

"I should have kissed you every damned day. Why didn't I kiss you?"

He did kiss her then, deeply, and Bellatrix moaned gently against him. Her fingers went at once to the buttons of his pyjama shirt. He unfastened the buttons one at a time, pushing the shirt until Tom shook it off and tossed it away. Bellatrix touched him all over then, her fingers drifting over his shoulders, down along his arms, up his stomach and chest, and to his jaws. She pulled back from the kiss when she needed a breath, and he begged her,

"Tell me how to make it last. Tell me… I don't want it to end so quickly like it did the first few times."

Bellatrix gave him a conciliatory smile and nodded. She glanced down at his very obvious erection, and she told him,

"If I play with it too much beforehand, it won't last so long inside of me. Because, you know, you'll be all worked up. So, you should probably go ahead and put it inside of me sooner rather than later, Master. And, erm… if you stay atop me, with slower movements, it'll last a lot longer than if you're behind me or if I'm riding you."

"How do you know all this? Because you were married?" Tom's lips tightened into a line, and his cheeks went red. "You know all about sex, and I know nothing."

"You can't know anything about it without practising," Bellatrix shrugged, and Tom tipped his head and sighed. He nodded. Shoving his trousers down along with his underwear, he stepped out of them and kicked them aside with a rough shove of his foot. "Let's practise, then."

He grasped Bellatrix's wrist and yanked her toward the bed, and she whispered,

"Wait! Master! The sterilising spell!"

"Oh. Right." He pulled her near him, planting his palm flat against her lower abdomen. He looked her right in the eye and murmured wandlessly, " _Breviter Sterilatatem._ "

"Did you just…" Bellatrix felt a buzz of warm magic that signaled the spell had worked, and she marveled at her master's ability to perform incredibly difficult magic as though it were nothing at all. She scoffed and shook her head, and she told him, "You are amazing, My Lord."

"We'll see about that, I suppose." He pulled her more gently toward his bed, and Bellatrix felt badly for him then. He didn't want to finish too quickly. Could she help him with that? Rodolphus had had that problem early in their marriage. She tried to remember what she'd done to help. Less friction. Slowing down.

"Let's go slowly, Master," she suggested carefully, and she crawled up onto his bed. She lay on her back, and he asked her,

"Are you… is your body ready?"

Bellatrix could have used a little more preparation, if she was honest, but she licked her fingers and put them between her legs, and she nodded and smiled.

"Yes. I'm fine."

"Are you certain?" Tom asked where he knelt. Bellatrix eyed his cock, long and thick and throbbing, and after just a moment of focusing on it, she felt a rush of wetness between her legs. She panted a little and nodded.

"Yes."

"Good." Tom cleared his throat a bit and pushed her knees apart. He knelt between her legs and clutched at his cock, and seeing him do that made Bellatrix wetter than ever. She shifted, squirming a little, feeling aroused at the sensation of his tip touching her entrance. Bellatrix tipped her head back and clutched at the blankets, and she moaned quietly,

"I… I want you."

"Bella." He sounded just a little unhinged as he pushed in, stretching her, shoving into her, filling her. "Bellatrix. Bella."

"Master." Bellatrix gasped when he pulled out and pushed back in. She pulled her knees up toward her chest as Tom leaned onto his hands, hovering over her. A lock of his black hair fell in front of his eyes, and Bellatrix reached up to push it back. He liked that. He groaned when she did it, so she kept touching him there, tangling her fingers into his locks and pulling just a little at his hair.

"Bella!" He hissed through clenched teeth. "Fuck."

"Master?" Bellatrix took another handful of his thick black hair, and he tossed his head back and accelerated his hips. Suddenly he was pounding her, his mouth fallen open, and he whispered frantically,

"Squeeze."

"Yes, Master." Bellatrix tightened her fingers on his hair, and his eyes clenched shut as his breath escaped his lips in harsh puffs. He grunted with every thrust of his hips then and whispered,

"I'm going to come. Shit. Sorry. I'm going to come."

"Do it." Bellatrix felt herself clenching around him, unexpectedly driven to her own completely unseen edge by the way he'd been so aroused by her playing with her hair. She moaned very loudly, so loudly she thought the boys next door would hear her, and she arched her back up and let her chest touch his.

"Master!" She didn't care, suddenly, if anyone heard. She couldn't keep quiet. She loved him. He was making her come, right here, right now. He was coming inside of her. She could feel it, as she came down from her high. She could feel his come gurgling back out between them and dribbling down the inside of her thigh.

"Bellatrix." He was completely breathless as he pulled out of her and lay on his back on the bed beside her. His chest rose and fell quickly, glowing with sweat, and he tossed a forearm over his eyes.

"I wanted to last for you," he complained.

"I finished," she said self-consciously.

"You're lying," he groaned, but Bellatrix laughed,

"Look into my head, Master."

He did, and she showed him the sensation of coming just before he'd done so. He raised his eyebrows and smiled crookedly.

"Well, all right, then," he said rather happily. His throat bobbed where he lay, and he whispered, "I didn't know I liked having my hair yanked like that."

"Did I hurt you?" Bellatrix asked, and Tom licked his lip as he whispered,

"I liked it. Isn't that all that matters?"

"Yes. Of course, Master." Bellatrix leaned over to kiss his chest, and she whispered, "I should probably go. I was loud."

"I don't care if you were loud, but… fine. Go. The girls will wonder where you are." Tom rolled his eyes and said, "Soon enough, these stupid rules won't be a part of our lives."

Bellatrix hesitated for a long moment, and Tom asked her,

"What is it?"

"What are your plans, Master, for after graduation?"

"I plan to be a war hero," Tom said seriously. "I plan to be the wizard who killed Grindelwald after he killed Dumbledore. I won't exactly need a pedestrian job. And I'll take good care of you."

Bellatrix's eyes welled heavily, and she slowly sat up, staring down at Tom. He scowled.

"What?"

"You'll… you'll take good care of me?" she repeated, and his brows furrowed.

"Have you some sort of issue with that idea?"

"No." Bellatrix swiped at her eyes and whispered, "I love you more than life itself, My Lord. I went to prison because I was searching so hard for you, but even then, I didn't really know… I didn't know what it would mean to be in love with you like this."

"Bella." Tom reached for her hand and threaded their fingers together. "The Universe decided to send you back to me. You were meant to be here with me. So I will be very powerful, and I will take good care of you. You understand?"

"Yes, Master," Bellatrix nodded, and Tom's lips curled up as he whispered,

"Go back to your room. So soon until you and I fulfill a greater destiny."

**Author's Note: WHEWWWW! That was a lot of fluff n' smut. I promise we'll get a very, very, very plotty chapter next! (rubs hands together and laughs maliciously with plans)**

**For those who were so kind about my son, thank you so very much. He is now out of the hospital. I should be able to resume a more normal writing schedule from here on out, barring any complications. I do appreciate your patience.**


	17. Chapter 17

"Bella," said Tom quietly from beside her in the Potions classroom four days later, "I received an interesting owl this morning."

Bellatrix kept stirring her Sun Protection Serum as it thickened, and she looked up to confirm that Professor Slughorn wasn't listening. He was humming as he made marks in his grade book. Bellatrix and Tom were all the way at the back of the classroom. She turned to Tom, who was also stirring his potion patiently, and she asked in a whisper,

"Was this owl from Caeso Malfoy, by any chance?"

"It was." Tom lowered his gaze into his potion, which was turning clear and thickening substantially. He picked up some powdered pearl and drizzled it in with his fingers, and Bellatrix did the same with her own potion. The two of them kept stirring, and then Tom glanced down to his stopwatch and said, "That's two minutes. Switch directions."

They started stirring anti-clockwise, and Bellatrix whispered,

"Was there a letter? From…  _him_?"

"Yes. Come to my room after dinner, and I'll show you," Tom nodded, and Bellatrix swelled up with excitement. She kept stirring her potion for two more minutes, and then she called out,

"Professor Slughorn? I think we've finished!"

"Have you? Oh, good. Well done. Let's see." Slughorn rose from his desk and came toddling across the classroom. He eyed the serums and nodded his approval. "Consistency and colour are just so. Let's bottle these up, and you can give them a try as we begin to get some springtime sun, eh?"

They ladled their serum into bottles that they corked, and then they gladly accepted their full marks for the day before cleaning up their supplies. Tom's hands were shaking as he Scoured his cauldron and packed his Potions supplies into his leather satchel, and Bellatrix realised that whatever was in that letter he'd received was very important.

At lunch, she was very distracted, staring at Tom as he sat silently in the midst of his gang of boys. They chatted animatedly around him whilst he stared at his plate of food, and Bellatrix wished suddenly that she was a Legilimens.

"Bella?"

She snapped her face up at the sound of Druella's voice. Druella looked very concerned, and she asked,

"Is everything all right? Between you and Tom?"

"Everything… between Tom and me? Erm… yes, of course," Bellatrix nodded, gulping. "Yes. Of course. I… we've just been anxious about, you know… what comes after school."

"Ah. Yes, of course. It must be difficult for you. Not having family here." Druella reached for Bellatrix's elbow and said sincerely, "You are always welcome at the Rosier house. I want you to know. I've already written my parents about it. I didn't… I didn't give details, but they want you to know that you're always welcome."

"Thank you." Bellatrix's eyes seared just a little, and she took a shaking breath.

"Pardon me, Miss Crabbe."

"Jacob!" Sutton whirled around from where she sat, and everyone's attention was suddenly on Bellatrix's Uncle Jacob, Druella's brother, who had apparently gathered the courage to leave the pack of boys and wander down the table to where the girls were sitting. He clenched and released his fists a few times and asked bravely,

"Miss Crabbe, will you please accompany me to the Spring Ball next week?" Jacob asked, and Bellatrix smiled to herself. These two would wind up married, she knew. Her Uncle Jacob and his wife Sutton would go on to live in Paris. She barely knew Sutton in the life she'd left behind, for they'd only very rarely visited. But from what she understood, Sutton and Jacob lived a very happy, very fulfilled life in Paris. Sutton grinned from ear to ear and reached for Jacob's hand, squeezing it.

"I'd love to go with you, Jacob. Thank you."

Cygnus came over then to kiss Druella's forehead and ask his affianced whether or not she would go with him to the ball. Druella gave a very enthusiastic yes, of course. Abraxas Malfoy came over and asked Theodora, who had gone to the Autumn Ball with her own cousin. Theodora seemed absolutely ecstatic at being asked by Abraxas, who had asked Ivy in the autumn. Bellatrix asked Druella quietly,

"Where is Ivy? She wasn't in lessons this morning."

"She went up to the Hospital Wing this morning before breakfast," Druella said. "Her legs were feeling weak. I hope they don't take her to St Mungo's like they did last year."

Bellatrix scowled, and Druella's face shifted. She sighed and asked meaningfully,

"Bella, can you tell me… will Ivy live?"

Bellatrix looked over to the other girls, who were chatting excitedly about the ball. Bellatrix turned her eyes back to Druella and shook her head no. Druella shut her eyes and touched at her forehead.

"It's a family curse," Bellatrix whispered. "You always told me you missed her terribly. I'm sorry, Mum."

She said that last word entirely on instinct, but it seemed to seriously affect Druella. She excused herself, saying she needed the bathroom, and Bellatrix was tempted to follow her. But before she could, Tom stood from the boys' section and came walking over, and Sutton and Theodora went quiet and listened. He just slid onto the bench beside Bellatrix, looking tired and anxious, and he asked her seriously,

"So? The ball?"

"I'd love to," Bellatrix nodded, and Tom reached to squeeze Bellatrix's hand. He just sat there for a long moment, staring at where his hand held Bellatrix's, and he finally murmured,

"Right. Erm… dark red roses again?"

"You know I always wear black when I'm given the choice," she replied, and Tom rubbed at her hand with his thumb. He brought her knuckles to his lips and kissed them, holding them near his lips, seeming very distracted, and he whispered,

"Right. It'll be fun, then."

He set her hand down on the table and stood, and Bellatrix realised what was happening.

There wasn't going to be a ball.

* * *

_Dear Mr Riddle,_

_Open the passage at the statue of Gregory the Smarmy at six in the evening this coming Thursday._

_Plans have changed. Adapt or die. I expect your cooperation and assistance. Have the passage open at six on Thursday._

_G.G._

"He's coming in two days." Bellatrix's hands trembled ferociously around the letter. "Two days. Today's Tuesday. He's coming on Thursday. We have two days until Gellert Grindelwald is inside of this school."

"Yes." Tom sat on the edge of his bed and loosened his tie. He didn't have patrols tonight, so he pulled it up and over his head and set it on the bed beside him. He unbuttoned the collar of his shirt to liberate his throat. Bellatrix handed him the letter and said fearfully,

"You're going to kill Gellert Grindelwald in two days' time."

"That's the idea," said Tom. "Now. We need to figure out a way to not be discovered as the ones who let Grindelwald into this school. Abraxas knows. His father knows. But they'll become loyal to me, I think, even after I kill Grindelwald. And if they don't, I'll kill them, too."

"I'll kill anyone I need to to protect your reputation," Bellatrix assured him, "Master. I will fight beside you against Grindelwald."

"You are a combat veteran," Tom said with a sigh. "I've never actually fought a battle. I need advice."

_He_ needed advice from  _her_? Bellatrix's mouth fell open. She shook her head and asked,

"Wh-What do you mean, My Lord?"

"We've duelled in Defence Against the Dark Arts, and I've cast Killing Curses before," said Tom, "but I need advice on combat. How do I ensure he doesn't catch me off guard?"

"Ah." Bellatrix nodded. She crossed her arms over her chest and tipped her head. "Always, always know what's behind you. And if that can be a wall, make it a wall. Don't ever give someone the opportunity to cast a Curse at your back."

"Right." Tom nodded, twirling his wand in his fingers. Bellatrix continued,

"You're familiar with Muggle weaponry?"

"In theory," Tom said carefully. Bellatrix nodded.

"Be like a machine gun, not a rifle."

"Fire spells as quickly as possible," Tom said.

"And be as destructive as you can to the environment surrounding your enemy," Bellatrix said. "Light the surroundings on fire, but don't use Fiendfyre if you can help it."

"Too hard to control," Tom nodded. Bellatrix chewed her lip and said,

"Shield Charms are important. So's Apparating away from a spell, but of course you can't do that here in Hogwarts. If you sense a Killing Curse is coming toward you, physically dodge it. Curl up into a ball, make yourself tiny, and roll away. Let it hit the wall that you've got behind you."

"And I won't step into this fight until after Grindelwald has already killed Dumbledore," Tom clarified, "because otherwise it looks like I'm Grindelwald's ally and suddenly turning on him. Then I'm a villain."

"No. Right. You need to be the one who witnesses the murder of Albus Dumbledore and avenges the death," Bellatrix confirmed. "You need to look like the hero who put a stop the madness."

"And I need you to know something." Tom licked his lip carefully and opened the drawer in the table beside his bed. He pulled out a black diary bearing the name  _Tom Marvolo Riddle_ , and he handed it to Bellatrix. "This… this may become important."

"A… diary?" Bellatrix took the book, confused.

"If Grindelwald kills me," Tom said stonily, "this book will be my only hope of carrying on living. It contains… it contains a part of my soul. A split off piece of my soul. It is magic of the Darkest sort. A Horcrux."

"A Horcrux?" The word felt alien on Bellatrix's tongue, and she frowned as she thumbed through the empty diary. She raised her eyes to Tom and asked, "I would use this to resurrect you if you were killed?"

Suddenly she burst into tears, shaking like mad, and Tom snapped,

"What is the matter?"

"If I'd known. If I'd… if I'd had any idea that you had this… when you went missing in the life I lived… perhaps I could have brought you back, Master," Bellatrix said, and Tom insisted,

"That life doesn't matter now. What matters is this existence that we share. I have written down the spells one uses to preserve someone with a Horcrux; they're in the diary on a parchment. If Grindelwald kills me, Bellatrix, you must use the Horcrux. It will be my only chance of continuing on."

"Yes, Master," Bellatrix nodded, "but please do a favour, will you?"

"What's that?" Tom asked hesitantly, and Bellatrix raised her eyes to him and said,

"Please don't get killed."

**Author's Note: Okay… who's ready for the three-way showdown between Dumbledore, Grindelwald, and Tom Riddle? I will tell you one thing - Dumbledore is not going down without a serious fight, my friends. Thank you for reading. PLEASE do leave a review. Thanks!**


	18. Chapter 18

"Tom and I are working on a Potions project," Bellatrix told the Slytherin girls. "We'll have to eat later. Our potions had to brew for exactly twenty-nine hours, and we have to go add bat's blood to them. See you."

"Oh. See you," said Sutton, and Ivy, who had just been released from the hospital wing, gave a little wave. Druella was chatting about something with Theodora, and the pack of girls continued on to the Great Hall. Bellatrix held back and started to make her way up a flight of stairs and toward the Middle Courtyard. Her heart began to race. She'd agreed to meet Tom at the statue of Gregory the Smarmy whilst everyone else was in the Great Hall for dinner. They would open the passage just before six, then leave it open and go to the Great Hall so that it wasn't obvious they'd been the ones to let Grindelwald into the school.

"Master," Bellatrix whispered, frantically dashing toward him in the corridor. She looked around and was grateful to see that this particular part of the castle was devoid of portraits on the wall. No snooping by paintings, then. Bellatrix gulped as she stepped up to Tom, who stood with one hand on the large, gargoyle-like statue of Gregory the Smarmy. He put a finger to his lips, and Bellatrix went silent.

"I remember how to open the passage, like you said," Tom announced quietly. "Sixteen taps on the right side of the head and eight taps on the left. Are you ready?"

"Ready," Bellatrix whispered. "It's five minutes to six. Shall we do it now and then go straight to the Great Hall? I told the girls we had Potions work to do."

"I told the boys the same," Tom nodded. "Let's do it. It's time, Bellatrix. My destiny of greatness must be fulfilled."

"You will be great, Master," Bellatrix murmured. "Sixteen taps on the right side and eight on the left."

He did as she commanded and tapped his wand sixteen times on one side of Gregory the Smarmy's head, then moved his shaking hand to the other side and tapped it eight times. There was a scraping sound then as the statue moved away from its placement on the stone floor. Bellatrix frowned down at the opening in the ground.

"Could an adult wizard actually fit through there?" she asked Tom, and he hesitated before he pointed out,

"He could use an Expansion Charm."

"Oh. I suppose so," Bellatrix pointed out, ogling the dirty, oblong tunnel. She looked at Tom and said gravely, "We should go. Quickly."

"Let's go." Tom took her hand, holding it tightly. Bellatrix gripped her wand and brushed her thumb over his fingers. She trotted to keep up with his very long strides as he stalked down the first floor corridor and down the winding staircase to the ground floor. Bellatrix panted with anxiety as she followed him into the Great Hall, and she shook like a leaf as she whispered to him,

"He's probably up there now. He's going to come in here any minute."

"The staff will defend the students," Tom pointed out, "and I'm sure Grindelwald won't come alone. Grindelwald will go straight for Dumbledore, and… wait."

"He won't come alone," Bellatrix said, her lips going dry. "What are you going to do about his allies? Are you going to fight them all off yourself?"

Suddenly she suspected that Tom hadn't really thought about that, that he'd just thought about himself and Dumbledore and Grindelwald. In his haste for glory, he hadn't considered Caeso Malfoy coming into the school and fighting Armando Dippet, or -

_BANG!_

Screams filled the air as sudden darkness fell over the Great Hall. An enormous explosion sounded, like a giant bomb had gone off. There was a horrendous screech, and Bellatrix released Tom's hand so that he could hold his wand. She couldn't see anything; it was as though someone had thrown a giant sack of Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder over the entire Great Hall. Girls' shrieks and boys' cries of confusion filled the space until an echoing, accented, augmented voice filled the Great Hall.

" _Students and Staff of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I come not to harm you. I come for one and one alone. Albus Dumbledore. Meet me alone in the Middle Courtyard. Send the students back to their Houses and send Staff to their offices. Albus Dumbledore, we meet once and for all in the Middle Courtyard. Now._ "

The darkness lifted, and the screams faded as everyone began chattering in confusion about what was going on.

"Silence!" cried Armando Dippet from the front of the Hall. He stared at Dumbledore, who nodded once, and Dippet pinched his lips. The students' voices finally faded, and Dippet looked to Tom, who was Head Boy, and to the Ravenclaw Head Girl.

"Prefects," he said, "and Heads of House… see that all students are returned to their dormitories at once. Other staff… to your offices. An all-school announcement will be made when there is an all-clear. Move quickly and calmly. Now. Go."

Tom rushed over to Abraxas Malfoy and began talking to him, and Bellatrix gulped as she watched Druella, who was also a Prefect, gathering the terrified first- and second-year Slytherin students up in a very maternal fashion.

_Grindelwald._  The name was worming its way through the Great Hall in whispers, in shouts, and students began to stream out of the Great Hall, following Prefects and the staff Heads of Houses. Horace Slughorn looked utterly terrified as he led his Slytherins away, down to the dungeons.

It all happened so quickly that Bellatrix hardly noticed the way that Albus Dumbledore disappeared.

Tom approached Bellatrix and murmured,

"Look like we're following them, and then we're going to Disillusion ourselves and break off to go up to the Middle Courtyard."

"Yes, My Lord," Bellatrix whispered. She worked with him to herd Slytherins out of the Great Hall, and then she peeled off with him before descending the staircase to the dungeons. They each quickly cast a Disillusionment Charm upon themselves, and soon enough they were essentially camouflaged with the environment around them. Bellatrix hustled with Tom up the winding stairs to the first floor corridor, and she could see the statue of Gregory the Smarmy with its open tunnel.

So he had come alone, alone to fight Dumbledore all on his own. The manic, psychotic bastard.

Bellatrix gasped as she and Tom approached the Middle Courtyard. Outside, in the cloistered environment, she could see a white-haired wizard with a vibrantly white eye contrasting his other dark eye, aiming a knobby, thin wand at Albus Dumbledore. Dumbledore did not have his wand raised. Bellatrix threw up every Occlumency shield she had, and she held back with Tom and watched.

"I never wanted things to come to this, Gellert," Dumbledore said, "and certainly not here. Not with the students present."

"The time traveller told me the truth," Grindelwald said in a sort of slur, his wand jabbing at Dumbledore. "That you defeated me and that the world went on without me. I don't think so, Albus. I won't let it happen. We fight on my terms."

"Why must we fight at all, Gellert?" Dumbledore demanded. "Why can't you just lay down this entire grand battle of yours? For the greater good! That was what you said! For the greater good! Not for you! Not for Gellert's glory!"

"Raise your wand, Albus, or I'll kill you cold," Grindelwald snarled. Dumbledore didn't move, so Grindelwald growled, " _Ava -"_

"Gellert!" Dumbledore whipped out his wand. " _Fieri Inimica Maxima!_ "

Fiendfyre. He'd Conjured Fiendfyre. He whipped it around, and it formed the shape of a phoenix before soaring it at Grindelwald, who blocked it with a mighty Shield Charm the likes of which Bellatrix had never seen. The fire crackled and smouldered against the Shield Charm, melting into lava that burned the grass where it fell. Grindelwald sent the lava soaring back through the air in glowing globs that were aimed straight at Dumbledore. He, in turn, Vanished the lava with countless Vanishing spells that hit one glob at a time. He aimed a fantastically charged Knockback Jinx at Grindelwald, who blocked it, but it was so strong that it still sent him soaring backward against the stone wall. Bellatrix reached for Tom's hand, sensing that the end of the duel was near. She couldn't see him, but she could feel him, and she whispered,

"Master."

"I'm ready," he whispered back.

Grindelwald snarled in anger and aimed his wand at the tower above Dumbledore's head. He growled out,

" _Bombarda!_ "

The tower exploded, sending stone debris raining down upon Dumbledore, who blocked it all with a powerful Shield Charm. His Shield Charm caused the stone to dissolve into dust that piled around him, and Dumbledore cried out,

" _Expelliarmus!"_

"What!" Grindelwald seemed shocked by the simple, almost ridiculously predictable spell. His wand, the thin, knobby one, soared through the air and was quickly caught by Dumbledore. He tucked his own wand away as Grindelwald aimed his hand at Dumbledore and prepared to cast wandless spells.

Dumbledore seemed breathless and tired as he aimed Grindelwald's own wand at him, using it seemingly on instinct. He panted from the exertion of the duel then as he exclaimed,

"Gellert, it's over!  _Petrificus Totalus! Incarcerous!_ "

Bellatrix squeezed Tom's hand very tightly then and scowled. What had just happened? Had Dumbledore just immobilised and bound up Gellert Grindelwald? Had he just won the duel, the same way he'd done in the timeline Bellatrix had lived?

"No," Tom whispered, and Bellatrix was silent in shock.

"Tom!" Dumbledore turned slowly and faced out of the courtyard. "Miss Lestrange. I know you are there. Take off your Disillusionment Charms. Now."

Bellatrix gulped and removed her Charm, and Tom did the same. Dumbledore glared at Tom and Bellatrix and demanded,

"Did you let Gellert Grindelwald into this school?"

"N-No, sir," Bellatrix lied, but Dumbledore shook his head and insisted,

"You told him of a duel where I defeated him, and you wanted a different outcome this time, Miss Lestrange. I do not think it is safe to allow you to stay at this school."

"That sounds like a decision for Professor Dippet, sir," said Tom, his voice oddly steady. Bellatrix stared at him, and Dumbledore nodded, glancing back to where Gellert Grindelwald lay still and silent and bound.

"Yes. That is a decision the Headmaster will make in the morning, after the Ministry of Magic arrives to deal with Grindelwald. In the meantime, Mr Riddle, as our Head Boy, I would expect that you would be in the dungeons with the rest of the Slytherins. Go there now. Miss Lestrange. You stay here. I want you to speak with the Ministry officials when they arrive."

"But, Professor," Tom interjected, and Dumbledore's face twisted.

"To the dungeons, Tom. Now."

Tom reached for Bellatrix's hand, rubbed at her fingers, and turned to walk away.

**Author's Note: Oh. So. Um. That didn't go the way Tom and Bellatrix were hoping. At all. Dumbledore still managed to defeat Grindelwald, and now Tom and Bellatrix are in big trouble. Whoops. What happens next? I promise to update ASAP. In the meantime, I'd love to know your thoughts.**


	19. Chapter 19

Of all the places Bellatrix expected to find herself, a bare white room in the Minister of Magic's office was not one of them.

She'd been brought here from Hogwarts after a swarm of Aurors had descended on the school to whisk Gellert Grindelwald away as a prisoner. Dumbledore had then explained to Leonard Spencer-Moon, who had also come, that he felt Miss Lestrange had been  _less than truthful_  with them and had been colluding with Grindelwald based on what Grindelwald had said.

Now it was two in the morning and Bellatrix was sitting at a cold metal table in a stark white room, and in walked the Minister of Magic himself. Resplendent in deep plum brocade robes, Minister Spencer-Moon sank into the chair opposite Bellatrix and set his wand on the table. They'd taken Bellatrix's when she'd been brought here. Would she get it back, she wondered? The new wand she'd been given upon arriving in this time?

"Miss Lestrange," said Minister Spencer-Moon carefully, "It is the decision of Armando Dippet, Albus Dumbledore, and myself that you shall henceforth be expelled from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Frankly, if I had things my way, you'd be off to Azkaban. But seeing as there is no definitive proof that you did let Grindelwald into the school -"

"I didn't," Bellatrix lied, and Spencer-Moon rolled his eyes a little. He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose and said,

"It is illegal to use Veritaserum on time travellers. Some believe that bending that rule would set a dangerous precedent. That is why you have not been interrogated with truth serum. But Mr Riddle was interrogated."

Bellatrix's heart sank, and she gulped heavily. She breathed through parted lips and asked,

"And what did he say?"

"That neither of you let Grindelwald into the school," Spencer-Moon scoffed. "We know he is lying. He has a strong mind. That is obvious. And, in any case, he was Head Boy and was meant to be escorting students downstairs, not watching the duel Disillusioned. There is plenty of merit to evict you both from the school."

"But not enough to throw us into prison," Bellatrix said. Spencer-Moon narrowed his eyes and rapped his fingers on the desk.

"The Ministry of Magic is not without mercy. Neither of you have any family. Your job prospects are slim, to say the least. You will both be provided with generous stipends to begin new lives. We trust that these new lives will be lawful and in pursuit of justice at all times."

"New lives." Bellatrix's throat went tight. She and Tom were being turned out of Hogwarts? They were meant to go start new lives? How was Tom to become Lord Voldemort if he'd been expelled from Hogwarts? She began to panic. Had they ruined everything?

No. Even in her previous existence, Dumbledore had defeated Grindelwald. All this was was kicking them out into the real world a few months early. It would give Tom a head start on working, on establishing himself as an adult wizard. She smiled a little and nodded.

"Thank you, Minister; that's most kind," she said.

"You do realise, don't you, that Albus Dumbledore is the greatest hero the wizarding world has ever known?" Spencer-Moon asked, and he seemed very deliberate in asking that question. Bellatrix nodded vigorously.

"Yes, of course. He defeated Gellert Grindelwald," she reminded the Minister. "Scourge of us all. Dumbledore is to be lauded, even if he did kick me out of school. I can certainly see his… well, in any case, Minister, I'd appreciate that stipend now, and to see Mr Riddle, if you don't mind."

Spencer-Moon's lips tightened into a line, and he rose.

"Come with me," he said, pulling out a drawstring bag from his robes and handing it over. It was obviously filled with coins. "Mr Riddle is just next door."

Bellatrix followed Spencer-Moon out of the white room and down a narrow little corridor, and when they reached the next room, Spencer-Moon opened it, and Tom Riddle was seated in his white dress shirt and tie in a chair. He stood slowly, looking rickety from the Truth Serum they'd given him, and he whispered,

"Bella."

"We're to be expelled," she informed him, and he nodded.

"I know."

"You are both free to go," said Spencer-Moon. "When you each have a new address, kindly send it by owl to Professor Dippet, and your personal belongings will be delivered from the school. I'm afraid you will not be permitted back on premises to retrieve them just now."

"I hardly had anything," Bellatrix shrugged, but Tom snarled,

"I have some very important things that I need to get myself."

"I'm afraid it isn't possible, my boy," said Spencer-Moon. Bellatrix's stomach twisted. His Horcrux. His diary. He was worried about that. Well, of course he was. It had a piece of his soul. Spencer-Moon assured him, "Your belongings will be delivered to you as soon as you have a permanent address. Thank you. Now, please, it is past two in the morning. I should like to go home and rest. There has been much to digest tonight. Kindly go out to the lifts; I trust you can both Disapparate from the Atrium."

Bellatrix and Tom walked out to the lift bank then, and they were silent as they rode inside the lift. Tom reached for Bellatrix's hand, and when they stepped out into the expansive black atrium, Bellatrix held her wand carefully in one hand, feeling the weight of the Ministry's money in her robe pockets, and she asked,

"Where shall we go? It's the middle of the night."

"Near the orphanage where I grew up," Tom said carefully, "there was a Muggle hotel. Just down the road. I can picture it clearly. We can go there until tomorrow."

"And what will we do tomorrow?" Bellatrix asked. Tom pinched his lips and asked her meaningfully,

"What did I do after school in the life you lived?"

Bellatrix's mouth fell open and she hesitated. He'd only ever told her once.  _I worked at Borgin and Burke's in my youth, just after leaving school._

"I think you worked at Borgin and Burke's, My Lord," she whispered, and he nodded crisply.

"Then we shall find a flat in London to let; we'll Confound the Muggles into thinking we've already paid the rent. And I shall work at Borgin and Burke's."

"And what if they do not want you to work there, Master?" Bellatrix wondered, staring around the atrium. Tom shrugged and said helplessly,

"We'll cross that bridge when we come to it. Let's go. King's Crown Hotel. Hold my hand."

* * *

The King's Crown hotel was dingy and old when they walked inside. A Muggle radio was broadcasting some sort of late-night variety programme, and the young woman behind the front desk blew a bubble of chewing gum as she listened. This was Muggle wartime, Bellatrix knew. These Muggles had very little space or time for leisure. She wondered, actually, where the young woman had gotten the chewing gum. Rationing was in full force.

"Hullo," said Tom, and then Bellatrix watched as the young woman vibrated with the hallmark sign of a Confounded person. She turned and pulled off a brass key with an oval keychain marked  _17_  from a hook, and she turned back to Tom.

"Mr Riddle. Sorry you were delayed. You're in Room 17, all paid up. Have a good night, let us know if you need anything, and please be judicious with the water and electricity. Bomb shelter's downstairs if you hear the siren."

"Thank you," said Tom, taking the key from the young woman. He walked with Bellatrix up a flight of threadbare stairs, and on the first floor, he walked confidently down the corridor until he reached room 17. He put the key into the door and opened it, and Bellatrix followed him inside. The room was cramped and ugly, with salmon-coloured bedding and drapery and a garish electrical lamp. The dresser was mismatched from the bed frame, and Bellatrix tried not to say anything.

"This place is an utter dump," Tom voiced, and Bellatrix was glad he'd said something and not her. She sighed and asked,

"Do you know a spell to ensure we don't leave here with bed bug bites?"

" _Scourgify Maxima._ " He pulled his wand out and aimed it at the bed, and then he incanted, " _Exterminatio._ "

"Thank you, Master," Bellatrix murmured. She loosened her Slytherin tie and pulled it off, staring at it for a long moment. "You know, I got a second chance at going to school. I suppose it couldn't last forever."

"Nothing lasts forever," Tom said, his voice emotionless. "Did you honestly think that after Dumbledore defeated Grindelwald and sensed us in that cloister, we'd get off with anything less than expulsion? We got off easy. We escaped, Bellatrix."

"Yes, Master. It certainly seems that way."

She climbed into bed with him after they Scoured their clothes and bodies and teeth. They stripped down to their underwear and slithered under the hideous salmon-coloured blankets, and they lay facing one another, shivering just a little in the chilly room.

"Bellatrix," said Tom, reaching for her hair, "I'm glad they expelled us."

"You are?" Bellatrix frowned. "What if this makes it more difficult for you to become Lord Voldemort?"

"I already am Lord Voldemort," Tom smirked. "I always have been. I always will be. People will know it in due time. And I  _will_ defeat Albus Dumbledore. And I will  _not_  vanish into the ether like you saw me do. Do you know why, Bella?"

"Why, Master?" she asked, and he pulled her face nearer to him as he mumbled,

"Because I've got you with me this time round."

"My Lord," she breathed. "I love you. I am here to serve you. To honour you."

"Yes." He touched his forehead to hers and said quietly, "We'll find a flat and live together, hm?"

She wanted to cry at that, at the idea of living with him, but instead she just nodded against his head and whispered,

"I'm here with you. To serve you."

"And because you are here, Bella, I will be victorious," Tom said very confidently. "Tomorrow we go to Borgin and Burke's and find a flat. Tomorrow begins our new life. Together. All right?"

"Yes, My Lord," Bellatrix agreed, and Tom kissed her lips carefully as he asked her,

"Do you love me?"

"More than anything," she said truthfully, and he said against her mouth,

"Then all is well."

**Author's Note: So Dumbledore got them kicked out of school, interrogated, and the Minister wanted them in Azkaban, but instead they're going to wind up living together and possibly working at Borgin and Burke's. Hmmm… When will Tom get his revenge on Dumbledore? Hope you're still enjoying reading this story; I'm still enjoying writing it! Thanks for reviewing!**


	20. Chapter 20

_FLATS TO LET - ENQUIRE WITHIN._

"What, inside that office?" Bellatrix asked cautiously, stepping up to where the rain-soaked cobblestones gave way to gravel. Her school shoes crunched on the little stones as she walked, and behind her, Tom said firmly,

"Let me do the talking, Bella. This is the Muggle world. Men take precedence over women, even young men. Sorry, but that's the way it is."

"I understand, Master," Bellatrix told him, and she stepped aside to let him pass. They had their wands tucked away, and she knew her powerful lord and master would have to use wandless magic to Confound the landlord of the flats they'd found in an ugly squat tower in Chelsea.

The door squeaked when Tom pushed it open, and some white paint flecked off. This building had been spared in the Blitz, but the one next door hadn't, and now a giant empty lot stood there. The Muggles would have to slowly rebuild when the war was over. Tom stepped into the dank little office with its flickering electric lights, and the Muggle man with a cigar in his mouth at the desk asked gruffly,

"Whadda you two want, then? Place to cosy up, eh?"

"Have you a flat to let?" Tom asked sharply, and the man sat forward with his hands folded on his desk. He puffed on his cigar and shrugged.

"I've got a one bedroom place sitting empty. Belonged to a bloke been offed in the war. 'Is mum came for all 'is belongings, she did, but all the furniture's still in. You can 'ave it for thirty quid a month, if you like."

Suddenly the man vibrated where he sat, and his eyes glazed over. He opened his desk drawer and pulled out a key, which he handed over to Tom.

"So you've paid the one-twenty quid, four months' worth," the man nodded. "Sounds good. The flat is on the third floor, but the lift's broken. Can't get a mechanic in here to fix it, not with the war on. Sorry 'bout that. Anyway, it's flat 3C. You need anything, you let me know, eh?"

"Thank you, Mr Candie," said Tom, and Bellatrix realised he'd performed Legilimency on the man. Mr Candie nodded and smiled at Bellatrix.

"'Ave a good day, Mrs Riddle."

She went wide-eyed with shock at that, but she nodded her thanks.

She walked with Tom out of the office and into the ugly block building. She shook with anticipation as they walked up three flights of stairs, and she was breathless at the top. She followed Tom down the corridor with its dirty tile flooring, and she asked rather indignantly,

"Why couldn't we get a nice place in Knightsbridge or something?"

"Because then the Ministry wouldn't think we were paying for it ourselves, Bella," Tom said, as though it were very obvious. Bellatrix sighed and nodded. She followed Tom into the flat when he opened it, and she gasped at how hideous it was. Everything was brown. Many shades of brown. The ugly brown divan sat next to a table with a wooden radio. The rug before it was obviously handmade, the sort that people made using tied rags, and was brown. The little bitsy kitchen had brown wooden cupboards and light brown countertops. Bellatrix peered to her left into the miniature bathroom to see a tan bathtub with a showerhead, a cream-coloured curtain, dark brown toilet, and dark brown sink with cracked white porcelain handles. There was a crack in the mirror above the sink, too, which made Bellatrix nervous, so she whipped out her wand and aimed it at the mirror.

" _Reparo._ "

She walked into the little bedroom, which was cramped just from the wardrobe, dresser, and bed, which squeaked when Bellatrix sat down upon it.

"Right. Let's get to work." Tom took out his wand and began Transfiguring. He cast spells to change the ugly divan into an elegant grey velvet sofa. He changed the rug into a dark grey plush confection. The kitchen he left alone, but he went into the bathroom and made the shower a stand-up version with shiny black tiles and a glass door. The toilet and sink became shiny black, too. He went into the bedroom and Vanished the dresser, murmuring,

"I'll Expand the wardrobe to give us more space… just… here…"

The wardrobe became a rustic knotty pine, as did the bed frame, and when Bellatrix sat on the plush white bed covers, the bed did not squeak. She grinned broadly at Tom and asked seriously,

"How on Earth do you do it, Master? How on Earth do you perform that sort of magic?"

He sniffed. "It comes naturally to me."

"You're a genius," she whispered, shaking her head. He eyed her on the bed and cleared his throat a little.

"We've got to go to Borgin and Burkes," he said quietly, "so that I can get a job. And you've got to figure a job, and we've got to write to the Ministry letting them know that this is our new address so they'll send our belongings here."

"Yes," Bellatrix nodded, beginning to stand.

"But first," Tom said, putting his hand on Bellatrix's shoulder and pushing her back down onto the bed, "I should like to take you. Because there was a little while there, Bella, where I wasn't entirely certain I'd ever get the chance again."

"Master," she purred, staring up at him from where she sat on the edge of the bed. She slithered backward, beginning to unbutton her white shirt, and he mumbled,

"I want you to pull my hair again."

"Do you?" Bellatrix felt her cheeks go warm, felt herself flush between her legs. She wriggled out of her shirt and unclasped her bra, which she tossed aside. Tom reached immediately for a breast, and he squeezed it tightly in one hand, brushing his thumb over the other nipple as he commanded her,

"Play with my hair."

"Now?" Bellatrix whispered, and his hand tightened on her breast, making her gasp.

"Now."

"Oh!" Bellatrix could barely breathe for how hard he was squeezing her. She reached up with both hands and dragged her fingernails around his scalp in circles, playing, toying. His eyes fluttered shut, and he licked his bottom lip. Then, suddenly, Bellatrix snared her fingers tightly into his locks and pulled, yanking firmly. Tom groaned and mumbled,

"Harder."

Bellatrix wasn't sure why he liked it, but he liked it. She twisted more, pulled harder. He hissed so intensely that it was almost like he was speaking another language - like he was speaking Parselmouth. His hands were so fierce on her breasts that Bellatrix felt tears worming their way from her eyes, and she tried not to beg him to let up.

"Slap me," Tom whispered, and Bellatrix's mouth fell open in shock.

"Wh-What?" She was being insubordinate, she knew. No  _Master._  No  _My Lord._  Just  _What?_  It was all she could manage. He opened his eyes, his black, fierce eyes, and he snarled,

"I said to slap me. Do it. Now."

"Yes, Master." Bellatrix pulled her hands from his hair, and her right hand shook like a leaf. She hesitated. She didn't want to hit him. She finally tapped at his left cheek, and he let out a guttural laugh before demanding,

" _Slap_  me, Bellatrix. Now. Do it! I've commanded you to -"

_Crack!_

She whacked him as hard as she could, and she gasped. His cheek instantly went scarlet. Her palm and fingers stung. His trembling left hand went to his cheek, and his eyes shut for a minute. Then he sat back on his knees, unfastened his belt and trousers, and yanked out his hard, throbbing cock. He came back toward Bellatrix, one hand pressed against her abdomen.

" _Breviter Sterilatatem,_ " he incanted, and then that left hand wrenched beneath her skirt and shoved the crotch of her knickers to the side. She yelped as he thrust himself into her, as he pushed his way into her body and then began to pound her at once. He hardly lasted a moment. He was on the verge of coming even before he entered her. Five or six thrusts - that was all he lasted. Bellatrix watched his face contort, watched his head tip back, heard him grunt and moan in agonised bliss, and then she felt his come leaking out between them.

"Bella."

He slid his hands up her thighs and held fast to her hips, and his fingers shook on her skin. Bellatrix reached for one of his hands and kissed his knuckles, and when at last he pulled out and lay beside her, she murmured,

"I don't like hitting you, My Lord."

"Sorry. I… it's the pain; I…" He shut his eyes and whispered, "I don't know why I like the pain."

"Well, all that matters is that you're happy, Master," Bellatrix insisted. She reached for her wand and Scoured herself, and she looked around the room as she sat up and pulled her bra back on. "We're going to live here. Together."

"In this shit flat," Tom snorted, and Bellatrix reached for her shirt, shaking her head.

"It's fine," she insisted. "You've made it more than fine."

He got a job at Borgin and Burkes. They were more than pleased there to have the great and powerful Tom Riddle working for them. Everybody figured he'd go on to the Ministry of Magic after school, but since he'd been expelled, that wasn't going to happen. But rumours about Grindelwald weren't going to scare off anyone in Knockturn Alley. In fact, the mood in Knockturn Alley was rather sour. Grindelwald had been a well-liked figure here, and news trickling in that Dumbledore had defeated Grindelwald in a duel was taking everyone by shock in the worst way.

Tom would start work on Monday, Mr Caractacus Burke said. Tom thanked him and walked out of the shop with Bellatrix with a recommendation to try Shyverwretch's Venoms and Poisons for work for Bellatrix. They'd take the famous time traveller, Burke reckoned.

Bellatrix stepped into the small, cramped Shyverwretch's and saw a stooped old wizard standing behind the counter. There were bottles all over the place - shelf after shelf of them.

"Hello, sir," said Bellatrix.

"What's that?" asked old Mr Shyverwretch, and Bellatrix called out loudly,

"My name is Bellatrix Lestrange. I'm the time traveller. I've come to ask for work, sir."

"Work? You want to work?" Mr Shyverwretch stepped out from behind the counter, his lame foot dragging along the ground as he did. He adjusted his narrow glasses on his face and peered through the thick lenses. He aimed a shaking finger at Tom and asked,

"Why not him?"

"I'll be working at Borgin and Burkes, sir," Tom said loudly. "Bellatrix is extremely gifted with Potions."

"Is she?" Shyverwretch stared up at Bellatrix and shrugged.

"Might be good to be able to rest in the back. You can start for five Galleons a week on Monday, if you like. Work nine in the morning to four in the afternoon, Monday through Saturday."

Four Galleons was cheap pay, but it was better than nothing. Tom would be earning seven Galleons a week doing similar work at Borgin and Burkes. But Bellatrix wasn't about to complain. This may be the only opportunity for work she would get. So she grinned and nodded.

"Thank you, sir."

"Bellatrix. The time traveller. Tell me, my dear. Will my grandson finally take over this shop one day?" asked Mr Shyverwretch, and Bellatrix sighed. She stared at Tom for a moment, and he nodded just a little. Bellatrix turned back and said,

"Shyverwretch's was still open when I was shopping in Knockturn Alley in the seventies, sir."

He coughed out a low laugh and nodded his happiness.

"Oh, yes. You can stay," he affirmed. "You can stay. Be back Monday morning so I can show you all my venoms and poisons."

"Yes, sir," said Bellatrix.

Two hours later, she and Tom had sent off an owl to the Ministry with their address, filled their bellies at a Muggle fish and chip shop, and settled onto the sofa in the living room.

"You know," Bellatrix said to Tom as they sat, staring out the window at the softly falling rain, "I'm going to learn an awful lot about poisons."

"Yes, you are," Tom affirmed. "And I'm going to be working very closely to Cursed objects."

"It would seem as though, at some point, the opportunity to kill Dumbledore might just… present itself," Bellatrix said softly. "Or, at least, the means to kill him."

"I hope so." Tom reached for her fingers, lacing them through his own. "When everyone graduates school, I'll need to begin recruiting them to the idea of Lord Voldemort, to the idea of a Dark Lord rising in the wake of Grindelwald's fall. I won't waste time on the Continent."

"But, Master," Bellatrix protested, "You learnt things on the Continent that I can't teach you. Necromancy and things. How will you use those skills if you don't -"

"Then I shall take you with me," Tom said very deliberately. He turned his head toward Bellatrix and nodded firmly. "If I must go study, in order to rise properly, then you must be at my side. I am very convinced of that. You must be at my side. I'll work here at Borgin and Burkes until suspicion of me dies down. Suspicion of us. We'll make an effort on Dumbledore. And then we'll go to the Continent, Bellatrix, and we'll study. Together."

Bellatrix's heart began to race, and she seized Tom's face in her hands as she whispered,

"Yes, Master."

**Author's Note: Ooooooh, so he might actually take her to the Continent to learn things like how to make Inferi. But only after trying to kill Dumbledore. Sounds like we have a lot on our plates! Thanks for reading and reviewing.**


	21. Chapter 21

Bellatrix awoke to the sound of rapping on the bedroom window.

"Hmph." She rolled over and curled up against Tom, but he sat up and dug his fists into his eyes.

"It's an owl," he said gruffly. He threw his legs over the edge of the bed and stood, hustling to the window. He tossed open the window, and a small brown owl came toddling inside. Tom untied the letter from its foot and said gravely, "It's got a Hogwarts seal."

Bellatrix sat up slowly, an ominous feeling taking her over. She slid off the bed and moved over to where Tom stood, and then she gasped when he opened the letter to reveal handwriting that had become familiar from years of seeing it on blackboards in classrooms. Albus Dumbledore.

_Dear Tom,_  she read over his shoulder,  _I know you understand why we took the liberty of searching your belongings before sending them back to you. Miss Lestrange's belongings were innocuous enough. Yours, on the other hand, were alarming. We discovered several Dark artefacts that appeared to have been purchased from Knockturn Alley, antiques with dangerous potential. We also found a seemingly blank diary with a small card stuck inside. On the card were many spells that were entirely unfamiliar to the entirety of the Ministerial staff, including the whole of the Auror force. I also did not recognise these spells. But we could tell they meant something evil, Tom. Necromancy or worse._

_This diary has been safely locked away in a location you will not reach._

_The rest of your belongings, along with Miss Lestrange's, are being kept in Ministry custody for the time being. They will be searched more thoroughly. We believe there is reason to charge the both of you with crimes against wizarding Britain, and this evidence may lie in your school belongings. Do not think for a moment, Tom, that the Ministry or Professor Dippet or I are blind to your games. We are none of us blind to you any longer._

_Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore_

"He's keeping our things?" Bellatrix gasped. "They're keeping your Horcrux?"

Tom crumpled the letter in his hand and shut his eyes. He shook his head and whispered,

"That bastard."

"But how will you be protected?" Bellatrix demanded. "Master, how will you -"

"I've got another," Tom told Bellatrix, holding out his right hand and showing her his ugly black ring."

Bellatrix grasped the ring and stared at it. "This is a Horcrux?"

"I made it not long before you arrived here," Tom told her. "When I killed my father and his parents. I took to wearing it to keep it safe. I should have hidden the diary somewhere safe. But at least now it's hidden wherever they've got it. They can't destroy it. They won't be able to. Besides, I'd feel it if they did. But I need to make another one to be safe, in case they try to break me."

"Make another one." Bellatrix shut her eyes, her heart racing. "That process seems to involve killing every time. Is that right?"

"Have you a problem with that?" Tom snapped, and Bellatrix insisted,

"No. Of course not, Master. But where will we go? We can't stay here. They're trying to find an excuse to throw us into Azkaban."

"We go to the Continent now," Tom nodded. "We'll stay in Muggle hovels if we need to; I don't care. We'll seek out the best teachers the Continent has to offer. We'll learn the best Dark Arts there are. And they won't find us. They won't catch us."

"What about Borgin and Burkes?" asked Bellatrix anxiously. "What about the poison shop?"

"Forget about them!" Tom insisted. "My Horcrux is being held hostage. The rest of our belongings are being held hostage by Dumbledore! If I'm to come back to this country victorious, Lord Voldemort, recruiting, ready to defeat Dumbledore, then we have some learning to do. We need to go to Paris."

"Paris?" Bellatrix breathed. "What's in Paris?"

"Everyone knows that there's a wizarding underworld in Paris," said Tom. "We just have to find it."

* * *

They Apparated from London to Dover, from Dover to Calais, and from Calais to Paris. By the time they reached Paris, Bellatrix felt sick and dizzy, and she and Tom leaned back against a stone building, panting and weary. Bellatrix thought she was going to be sick, until Tom murmured,

" _Nonemesis._ "

"Thank you, Master," Bellatrix whispered.

"We need to look in the Catacombs for clues," he said at once. Bellatrix glanced at the stone wall opposite them. She could read French, and she saw that the poster was advertising the first municipal elections since the Nazis had left Paris.

"What if the Catacombs are still closed?" Bellatrix asked. "This city's still at war?"

"Closed to the public? Even better," Tom smirked. He started walking down the alley where they were, a narrow little rue cloistered by five and six storey buildings leaning down upon it. They walked and walked and walked, twisting and turning through the streets of a part of town Bellatrix recognised as Denfert-Rochereau. Suddenly Tom stopped, stared down, and whispered, "They're here."

"Who's here?" asked Bellatrix, and Tom murmured,

"Witches. Wizards. In the Catacombs below. I can feel them. Hear them."

With his Legilimency. Bellatrix reached for his hand, looking around to be certain no Muggles were watching them. One lone elder Muggle was walking slowly down the street, so Bellatrix aimed her wand at him and Confounded him to keep walking away without looking back. Tom removed a manhole cover nearby with his wand, and with a mighty scrape, it came off the hole in the ground and lay on the pavement. Tom stared at the ladder going down into the Catacombs below the street, and he stared at Bellatrix.

"Ready?" he asked.

"Ready," she said, her voice shaking.

* * *

" _Lumos._ "

They walked in the light of their wands for some time until they reached what seemed like a dead end. There was a wall of skulls before them, and Bellatrix studied it for a time. Teeth. So many teeth. So many eye sockets. What colour hair had these people had, she wondered vaguely?

She could hear voices on the other side of the wall of skulls. There were people through there. People on the other side of the dead end. She stared at Tom, and he whispered,

"I've searched a mind. It's like Diagon Alley; there's a tapping code to get through. Here we go."

He suddenly tapped a series of skulls as though he knew exactly what he was doing. He touched his wand to the tops of their heads in a complex pattern he'd obviously extracted from a mind on the other side of the wall. Then he staggered backward, dragging Bellatrix with him, for the skulls began to clatter and clack as they moved away to clear a path, to make a hole in the great wall.

Then the voices on the other side went silent.

Bellatrix stared through to see an ornate, elegant lounge, outfitted in burgundy and gold and mahogany. There were charcoal drawings on the walls, moving just a little. There was a bar with a goblin barkeep serving up sophisticated cocktails to witches in fancy dresses and wizards in beautifully tailored robes. There was a large tank in the corner with a merperson of some kind looking oddly content to be there. There was a Demiguise that came into view on an Ottoman before a sofa where a witch sat petting a crystal ball as though it were a beloved animal.

" _Pense-tu que c'est eux?_ " hissed a wizard to another man whose hand he stroked affectionately.  _Do you think it's them?_

"The time traveller," said the witch with the crystal ball, speaking English, "and the man who would be Lord Voldemort. Yes. It is them, just as I have foreseen. Only… sooner."

"Sit down, Bellatrix. Lord Voldemort," said the second man, the one standing. "Have a drink. We have much to discuss."

**Author's Note: Oh, my. So they appear to have found their tribe. But Tom's Horcrux is locked away somewhere he can't reach. Eventually he's going to have to do something about that, when he's less helpless. Seems like he won't be helpless for long, no? ;) Thanks for reading and reviewing.**


	22. Chapter 22

"What will you 'ave to drink?" asked the goblin behind the bar, and Tom asked cautiously,

"What do you suggest?"

" _La Folie_." The goblin poured two flutes of a bubbling lavender-coloured drink, and he smirked. "Makes you just mad enough to enjoy yourself, eh?"

" _La Folie._  All right, then." Tom took one flute of the drink and handed it to Bellatrix. "Cheers."

"Bottoms up, Master," she murmured, and she was very careful as she sipped. It tasted the same as its colour - lavender. It was lightly bubbly, just enough to make Bellatrix hiccup a tiny bit. Behind her, someone chuckled and said softly,

" _La Folie est la joie de la vie._ "

Bellatrix began to feel a gentle sort of calm settle into her veins as she sipped her purple drink. She turned and asked the witch with the crystal ball,

"You had a prophecy of us coming?"

"Years ago," said the stringy witch, "I had a prophecy of Lord Voldemort coming here alone. Then I had another prophecy. He would come with a time traveller by his side. His wife."

Bellatrix's cheeks went warm. "I'm not his wife."

"No?" The witch looked from Tom to Bellatrix and smiled a little. "Hmm."

"This is Aquitaine Leclair," said one of the two wizards who were holding hands, the one sitting down. He sipped his own red wine and said, "She is the finest Seer, Legilimens, Occlumens, and Necromens in France."

"Necromens." Bellatrix had never heard the word before.

"I can speak with the dead," said Aquitaine. "I can Summon them back from beyond the Veil. It is a rare gift, not one I can easily teach. Sometimes they come to me unbidden. Lord Voldemort, your father was confused about why you killed him. I did not have a good answer for him."

"He was a filthy Muggle," Tom said, tipping his head up, and Aquitaine just nodded her head and shrugged.

"Well, if that is good enough reason for you."

"Where did you get the Merperson?" asked Bellatrix, and one of the wizards, the one standing, said,

"My lover, Bartholmieu, can commune with all sorts of creatures and Beings. This Merperson took a particular liking to him at Lake Geneva. She wanted to come back to Paris. She is comfortable."

"Are you Bartholmieu?" asked Tom, and the sitting wizard nodded. Tom cleared his throat. "Can you teach me to speak calmly with creatures like mountain trolls? Dementors?"

"But of course. If this is what you wish to learn," said the bulky, handsome Bartholmieu. "Aquitaine's prophecy foretold that you would… well, Aquitaine, why don't you recite it in English?"

She smiled and shut her eyes, holding onto her crystal ball and looking as if she were in a dream.

" _Onto these lands shall travel Lord Voldemort. Clutching his hand, his wife by his side. Travelled through time, she, too, will learn much. Of Inferi, of trolls, of Dementors, of Curses. Along will they venture, ever the more to discover. Brief here will their time be, yet firm will be their stamp._ "

She took a large breath and opened her eyes, and she smirked at Bellatrix and Tom. Her crystal ball smoked black inside and then white again, and she released it.

"Inferi," said Bellatrix. "He spoke of Inferi in the world where I knew him. I do not know what use he made of them."

"You will learn of them from me," said the standing wizard. He raised his glass of white wine. "I am Emilien. I learnt Necromancy from Gypsies in Romania. That is where I will send you next. But first, I will teach you to make Inferi. You will need to kill."

Bartholmieu stroked at Emilien's hand and murmured, "Don't frighten the boy, Emilien."

"It would take far more than killing to frighten me," Tom said firmly. Another witch, one wearing a beautiful brown dress over her middle-aged, lithe figure, stepped up and hovered behind Aquitaine.

"I am called Gigi," she said, "and I will teach you to Curse objects. It is what Aquitaine has foretold. You will come to learn Curses. I am an expert in Curses - in making necklaces kill anyone who touches them, for example. Curses that make anyone who eats of an apple vomit until they die. Curses that make anyone who puts on a pair of shoes shrivel up into ash. I can Curse anything. And I will teach you."

"And as for that diary, Lord Voldemort," said Aquitaine from her sofa, "I can see that you will get it back. When at last you return to Britain, triumphant and ready, you will get your diary back."

Bellatrix was completely overwhelmed, and the  _La Jolie_  liquor was going strongly to her head after just one drink. She shut her eyes and tried to remember who everyone was. Aquitaine, the Seer. Bartholmieu, the expert with Beasts and Beings. Emilien, the Necromancer. Gigi, the authority on Cursing objects. Aquitaine, Bartholmieu, Emilien, and Gigi.

These would be their teachers.

Bellatrix opened her eyes and asked,

"When do we begin?"

* * *

Tom and Bellatrix made an appointment to meet in Le Nichoir, which was the name of the underground lair where Paris' wizarding underbelly gathered. There were many additional rooms, Tom and Bellatrix were told. They spent a few hours socialising, getting to know the team that would educate them in the Dark Arts.

Bartholmieu explained that he had gone to Durmstrang and had developed a  _close relationship_  with his Care of Magical Creatures instructor, who had given him private lessons in addition to their liaisons. During these instructions, Bartholmieu had discovered that he had a peculiar gift with speaking to creatures and Beings usually averse to contact with witches and wizards. He learnt their languages easily. He got on well with them. And soon enough he'd learnt to manipulate them, to make them do whatever he wanted. To make him happy. He would teach Lord Voldemort to get the mountain trolls to answer his beck and call. He'd teach Lord Voldemort to make the Dementors free all the prisoners in Azkaban if that was what Voldemort wanted.

Aquitaine explained that she had been a Seer from a young age and had experienced visions with such regularity that her parents had had to shield her away from people who would come begging to see their future. Bellatrix could relate to that problem. Aquitaine had eventually learnt to channel her gifts into Legilimency, Occlumency, regular prophesying, and… Necromency. As a Necromens, she was the Magical equivalent of the fraudulent Muggle mediums who held seances. But for Aquitaine, it was real. She could reach beyond the Veil in her mind. She was not certain that she would be able to teach that skill to either Voldemort or Bellatrix. But what she would be able to do would be to make Bellatrix a Legilimens and strengthen Voldemort's Legilimency. She would make him the greatest Legilimens in the world - besides her - she promised. And the two of them would have Occlumency so strong not even Dumbledore would be able to find his way in.

Emilien learned how to create Inferi in Romania. They were essentially zombies, he explained, though they could be commanded and controlled. They were useful for attacking and guarding. He stated that they would need a few  _spare Muggles_  to practise with, and Tom said that was no problem at all. Emilien seemed quite pleased with the eagerness displayed by both Tom and Bellatrix to learn to raise the dead.

Gigi had honed her skills in Asia, though she refused to say where. Somewhere in the Orient, she said. She had been taught how to place the Darkest Curses on objects in order to maim and kill people who used them. She had sold a few of her Cursed objects to shops in Europe, including Borgin and Burkes, for exorbitant sums that funded her lavish lifestyle. But she would teach Voldemort and Bellatrix for free.

Their first lesson would be the next morning with Gigi, working on Cursed objects. They would begin by taking some everyday objects and Cursing them, then carefully placing them in the paths of Muggles who would use them and showcase the effects of the Curse.

For now, though, Bellatrix and Tom were sent on their way, off to a recommended Muggle hotel nearby where the lodgings were supremely comfortable but the manager was easily Confounded. They made their way to the hotel and Confounded the front desk staff into handing over the key, and they climbed up to the second floor. Once they were in the room, Bellatrix found herself shaking with excitement.

"Master," she said, her voice quavering, "I can't believe this. Earlier this morning, we woke in a terrible flat in London, thinking we were going to work in Knockturn Alley, knowing we'd been expelled from school. Now look at us. Now look, Master!"

"Bellatrix." He whirled on her, and suddenly his dark eyes flashed. Bellatrix could have sworn that, for just a split second, they flashed red. She must have been mistaken, she thought distantly. But she blinked at him as he seized her shoulders and said very firmly, "I am no longer Tom Riddle."

Realisation came over her. No one in Le Nichoir had called him  _Tom_. They had all - repeatedly, many times over - called him  _Lord Voldemort._  He was ready to become that man, wholly and completely. Bellatrix gulped. Her eyes watered, and she shrugged.

"I always knew you as him… as Lord Voldemort, Master."

"Well. Tom Riddle is gone now," said Voldemort very confidently. "I left that boy in England."

"You left that boy in England." Bellatrix nodded and licked her bottom lip as she asked carefully, "Do you still… are you still fond of me, Master?"

His face twisted oddly, and he whispered, "What?"

"Even as you leave Tom Riddle behind," Bellatrix said, almost sadly, "do you still feel for me -"

"They called you my wife," Voldemort hissed, pointing out the window as if he were pointing at all the new friends they'd made. Bellatrix gulped and shook her head a little. Tom -  _Lord Voldemort -_  took her face in his hands and kissed her fiercely. He pulled back and growled at her,

"I love you, Bella. Get in the bed and take off your clothes. Now."

**Author's Note: Whew! Someone's gotten all assertive since he's left his old name and identity behind. Who's up for a nice lemon where Tom - sorry,** _ **Lord Voldemort**_   **\- finally takes charge in his young body before they begin lessons? And who's excited for their lessons with Gigi? Woot woot!**


	23. Chapter 23

"Undress me, Bellatrix."

Bellatrix raised her eyebrows, pleasantly surprised by the initiative her master was taking. In all the time since she'd been back in this time, he'd not been like this. He'd been just a little bit shy. He'd been Tom Riddle. But he wasn't Tom Riddle anymore.

She crawled naked across the hotel bed until she reached him. She began to methodically undress him, and he made no effort whatsoever to assist her. That in and of itself was intoxicating, the way he just stood there while her hands went to his Slytherin tie, while her lips brushed against his. He just stood there, stoic, like a statue. He was entirely in control now. Bellatrix flushed, warm and wet, from the notion of him behaving like this. It was entrancing, the way her shaking hands moved of their own accord to loosen his Slytherin tie, the way it came right off over his head and fluttered like a butterfly to the ground. She reached for the neck of his white dress shirt and unbuttoned, one button at a time, and her lips grazed his again.

_Please kiss me,_  she thought, but he didn't. He just stood there. The statue, the man - the boy was gone. Bellatrix's fingers flew now, racing down his shirt. She yanked clumsily at the hem of the shirt, and by the time her hands reached his trousers, they were tented. She moaned at the sight of that, her fingers brushing over his hard cock through the material as her cheeks went warmer than ever.

"Take my clothes off, Bellatrix," Lord Voldemort ordered her. She raised her eyes to him and said very meaningfully,

"Yes, Master."

"You are my servant," he said, as though looking for affirmation. Bellatrix pushed his shirt gently from his chest, down over his shoulders and arms, and as he shucked it, she nodded and said,

"I lived in my old life entirely to serve you, and that is why I live here. Now. Always."

"Serve me," whispered Voldemort. He tangled his fingers in her hair and murmured, "Come for me."

Bellatrix smirked playfully. "What, now?"

"When I will it," Voldemort said, a tiny hint of uncertainty in his voice, as though he wanted to be able to command such a thing but wasn't sure if he could. Instead he cleared his throat and said again, "Undress me. Take off my undershirt and trousers."

"Yes, Master." Bellatrix rose and peeled off his undershirt. He raised his arms to help her, and when she'd rid him of it, she tossed it aside and touched at his chest. She brushed her fingers over his lean, tight chest, over his shoulders, over his arms, and she breathed through slightly parted lips.

"You wanted me when I was an old man," Voldemort noted. "Here I am an eighteen-year-old boy. Do you want me here?"

Bellatrix shut her eyes and nodded. "I want you."

"Say it louder," he insisted, and Bellatrix gasped as he slapped lightly at her buttock.

"I want you, Master!" she cried.

Voldemort stalked over to the large, double window and tossed it open. Bellatrix was confused, until he turned back, unbuttoning his trousers, and informed her,

"I want them to hear you at the Eiffel Tower, Bella."

Bellatrix choked out an anxious laugh and replied, "The Muggle police might come, Master."

Voldemort tipped his head, narrowed his eyes, and sighed. He aimed his hand at the window, and it suddenly slammed shut. Bellatrix's eyes went wide at his breezy use of complicated wandless magic. Voldemort stalked toward Bellatrix, shoved her roughly onto the bed, kicked his trousers down and away, and climbed up onto the bed to hover over her. She stared up at him, a predator glaring down at his prey. She gulped as he pinned her wrists roughly above her head, and he informed her,

"I am going to mark you up, and make you scream, and make you come."

"All right, Master," Bellatrix whispered breathlessly. Voldemort stared at her, his eyes flashing strangely, and he licked his lips as he said again,

"I want to put marks on you."

Suddenly he leaned down, latching his mouth onto Bellatrix's neck. Bellatrix cried out at the way he suckled and bit, and her back arched against him at once. He reached down with his free hand to fondle her breast roughly, pinching her nipple between his thumb and forefinger until she wriggled and squealed. He moved his mouth to the other side of her neck, dragging huge mouthfuls of her flesh between his lips and teeth and sucking until Bellatrix screamed. He'd said he would make her scream. He was right.

At long last, he began to lick where he'd been abusing, massaging her skin over the bruises he'd left. Bellatrix yanked her hands against his grip, but he tightened his fingers around her wrists and moaned against her neck,

"Hmm-Mmm!"

"Master! I can't… breathe…" Bellatrix was utterly overwhelmed. She squirmed where she lay, feeling swollen and damp between her legs. Voldemort chuckled onto her neck and kissed her softly there.

He moved his mouth to hers and began to lavish his attentions there, dragging his tongue over the roof of her mouth and sucking so hard on her tongue that it hurt a little. Then he pulled his lips down over her chin and throat and settled on the breast he'd been ignoring, latching his mouth around nipple and sucking so hard that Bellatrix actually did scream for real. Not a little squeak, not a cry - this was a  _scream,_ a mix of pleasure and pain. Meanwhile, Voldemort pushed one finger after another into her body. Bellatrix screamed again, clutching at the blankets as best she could while he held her. She bucked her head back against the bed and arched up, her toes curling. Suddenly he had three of his fingers buried inside of her, and he began to twist and thrust them. He worked hard on her clit with his thumb, and as he sat up a little and stared down at her, releasing her wrists at long last, Bellatrix pounded the bed and cried hoarsely,

"Master! Master, Master,  _Master!_ "

Voldemort smirked down at her.

"You're right. The Muggle police wouldn't likely care for that. Our hotel neighbours won't like it, either. They'll complain to the management and I'll have to Confound them," he joked. "You're so loud, Bella."

She tried to smile, but it was too much it was all too much. She snapped. Suddenly her ears were ringing and hot. Her vision was blurred. Her body clenched around his fingers, snapping so tightly that he let out a loud groan. Bellatrix grappled for purchase on the bed. This climax seemed to go on forever. It seemed never to end. Hot, white, blinding pleasure that was taking her over. She lay back on the blankets and felt herself being turned until she was on her hands and knees.

She moaned, feeling fatigue interplay with want as she felt Voldemort line himself up behind her. He pushed in and just held the sensation of penetration for a moment, both of them soaking in the sensation of her sheathed around him in the ultimate embrace. His hands shook like mad where the rested on either side of her hips. He stroked at her backside, and Bellatrix found herself begging him,

"Strike me, please. Please. Spank me. I just… oh.  _Oh._ "

_Smack!_

"Master!" Bellatrix dug her face into the pillow, and she tried in vain to grip the headboard. It wasn't designed for witches to hold onto it, she thought distantly.

_Smack!_

"Please."

"Please what, Bella?" Voldemort's voice was lethally calm, but hers was frantic as she admitted,

"I don't know!"

"Do you want me… to fuck you?" He pushed her hair over one shoulder, and he leaned down to plant a kiss between her shoulder blades. Bellatrix nodded desperately against the pillow, and Voldemort pulled back up.

He started to push his hips, to gently cycle against her body, but she wanted more, and she knew he knew that. She wanted to be  _fucked_. He knew why. He was her master, and when she'd craved him in her old life, she'd craved him as her master. He had always been in charge. She'd loved him here as Tom Riddle, because she would always love him. But she hadn't liked having to teach him about oral sex, about trying to last in bed. She wanted him to be in charge. She wanted him to be the master. She was his servant. She wanted to be  _fucked_.

Before she knew what was happening, he was thrashing himself against her, shoving her so viciously against the hotel bed that Bellatrix found herself grasping onto pillows to try and keep herself from slamming her head. She just moaned continuously, and as his hips quickened even more, as his thrusts grew deeper, she began to wail desperately, sounding to her own ears as if she were in pain, though that couldn't have been farther from the truth. After a long while, he began to tighten behind Bellatrix, and he abruptly shoved his hips forward and let out a very loud groan as he squeezed Bellatrix's backside.

She felt his come running down the back of her thigh a few moments later, as he pulled his softening cock out of her, and then he reached for his wand off the table beside the bed and Scoured them both. Voldemort lay on his back on the bed, and Bellatrix felt oddly like she should ask permission before joining him. But he pulled her up alongside him, so she curled up, and he kissed her forehead.

"Bella," he said quietly, "they called you my wife."

"Yes, Master, they did," Bellatrix said, her heart racing a bit. She raised her eyes up to him. He used his right thumb to fiddle with the ring on his right hand, the only remaining Horcrux he had in his possession, and he murmured,

"You're to marry me someday. It is prophesied."

Bellatrix blinked a few times. Was that a marriage proposal? She tried to catch her breath. She gulped, and before she could say anything, Voldemort pointed out,

"Tomorrow we're to learn all about Cursed objects. I'm looking forward to it. Are you looking forward to it?"

"Yes, Master. I am." Bellatrix cupped his jaw in her hand, and when he turned his face toward her, he said softly,

"I'm also looking forward to fulfilling that prophecy. Someday. Hmm?"

"Someday." Bellatrix's eyes watered, and she chomped her bottom lip. She glanced at his black ring, and then up to his dark eyes again, and she murmured, "I love you. More than anything in all the world. More than anyone's ever… you know what I mean, I think."

He just nodded, and he kissed her knuckles as he whispered,

"We've had a lot of travel, and a lot of excitement. We should rest. We've got learning to do in the morning."

**Author's Note: Whew! Lemon and fluff before we begin Dark Arts lessons with Gigi! Here comes my standard obligatory periodic plea for reviews, which have fallen off a bit but are always greatly appreciated. Please and thanks! Hope you're enjoying the fic.**


	24. Chapter 24

They descended down to Le Nichoir again at eight o'clock the next morning. They went to the manhole where Voldemort had sensed voices, had sensed people below. He pulled his wand out and looked around to be sure that no Muggles were watching, and then he removed the cover. It scraped and grated along the cobblestones, and Bellatrix went first down the iron ladder down into the Catacombs.

" _Lumos,_ " incanted Bellatrix, and Voldemort followed her down the steps and pulled the manhole cover back on with his wand. He illuminated his own wand, and suddenly they were surrounded by bones and skulls. Bellatrix walked down the ossuary corridor until she reached the dead end they'd reached before. She stared up at the wall of teeth and eye sockets, the wall of foreheads and jaws.

"Let me tap my way in," said Voldemort, and he rapped his wand in a complicated series of taps upon the skulls. He'd drawn this series out using Legilimency, Bellatrix knew. Abruptly, the skulls gave way, clacking and clicking and moving aside. They made way, opening up a space in the wall and revealing the elegant burgundy main room of Le Nichoir.

Inside was only one person - Gigi.

She was tall and lanky, wearing a plum-coloured silk set of robes that were tailored just so to her thin body. She had her dark, straight hair pulled into an elegant chignon at the nape of her neck, and she wore a strand of pearls around her neck. She stood in the centre of the room, folding her hands before her, and she said simply,

"Welcome. Come with me."

She turned and started to walk away, and Bellatrix and Voldemort stared at one another for a moment. The skull wall clacked and clamoured shut behind them, and Voldemort started following Gigi through a heavy door. Bellatrix followed, passing the content-looking merperson in the tank in the corner. She paused for just a moment, staring into the magically clarified water. The merperson glared at her a little, so Bellatrix hurried on. She followed Gigi and Voldemort through the thick mahogany door into a smaller parlour outfitted in blue and silver. There was a table, like a dining table, in the centre of the room. On the dining table was a pair of beautiful women's shoes and a chalice.

"Good morning, Lord Voldemort. Bellatrix." Gigi pulled out her wand, which was a delicate, swirled creation, and she informed them, "This morning, we will be Cursing two objects and planting them, then observing Muggles using them and showcasing the effects of the Curses. These Curses will all be lethal. Have you any objection to this training?"

"No. None at all," said Lord Voldemort firmly, and Bellatrix shook her head.

"No objection."

"Good," said Gigi in her French accented voice. She nodded and Conjured a small wooden cube, placing it on the table. "First, we shall Curse these wooden cubes. Then we shall Vanish them, and then Curse the object to be planted. Now. The first Curse we shall learn is called the Ashes to Ashes Curse. Any guess as to what it does?"

"Does it cause the victim to turn immediately to ash?" Voldemort guessed, and Gigi smirked.

"That is precisely what it does. The incantation is powerful and must be repeated three times. Touch your wand to the wooden cube and hold it. Then incant thrice,  _Cinis Cinerem. Cinis Cinerem. Cinis Cinerem._ "

Voldemort recoiled a little from the little wooden cube that Gigi had just Cursed. Bellatrix gulped. She knew if she were to touch the cube, she'd turn to ash. Gigi Vanished the cube and Conjured two more. She gestured to the cubes and said,

"All right. Lord Voldemort. Why don't you go first?"

He cleared his throat, held his wand onto the cube, and incanted, " _Cinis Cinerem. Cinis Cinerem. Cinis Cinerem._ "

He trembled a little where he stood, and he shot Gigi a surprised look. She smiled warmly and nodded at Bellatrix, who took a shaking breath and touched her wand to her own cube.

" _Cinis Cinerem. Cinis Cinerem. Cinis Cinerem._ "

She felt her heart flutter, felt her stomach flop, and she felt dizzy and sick. But Gigi said,

"Good. Well done. Now we Vanish these cubes and we Curse the shoes. Bellatrix, you Curse them. They are women's shoes; you Curse them."

Bellatrix repeated the spells on the fancy women's shoes, but Gigi could tell she was a bit drained from casting the spell twice in quick succession. She licked her lips and took a step back from the table once the black satin shoes were Cursed, and Gigi nodded.

"Now we learn the second Curse of the day. The Immolation Curse. Anyone who drinks of this chalice will immediately burst into flames, magical flames that cannot be doused. Complete conflagration. Tap your wand seven times and incant,  _Immolatio Maxima._ "

They practised again with wooden cubes, and then it was Voldemort's turn to Curse the real object. He walked up to the plain silver chalice and tapped its rim seven times.

" _Immolatio Maxima_ ," he incanted, and he gasped as though casting the spell had drawn breath from him. Bellatrix knew the feeling; when she'd practised with her wooden cube, she'd felt like she was drowning casting the Curse.

"Now. We go and plant these objects," said Gigi, "and we watch the Muggles use them. Ready? Lord Voldemort, Levitate the chalice. Bellatrix, Levitate the shoes. Follow me."

" _Wingardium Leviosa,_ " Bellatrix murmured, and the pair of shoes rose into the air and were guided before her. She was very careful as she followed Voldemort and Gigi back out through the heavy door and out through the main room of Le Nichoir. Gigi opened the wall of skulls, and Bellatrix and Voldemort followed Gigi out into the Catacombs. They climbed the ladder, which was difficult whilst Levitating the Cursed objects, and they climbed out through the manhole.

Gigi Confounded a passing Muggle who was very confused to see floating shoes and a floating cup, and the woman just kept walking on.

"Bellatrix," said Gigi, "put the shoes in the middle of the road. Then use the Imperius Curse to guide a passing Muggle woman to put them on. Lord Voldemort, set the chalice down on the kerb beside you."

Bellatrix was shocked by that suggestion, but she obeyed, and so did Voldemort. Bellatrix guided her Cursed shoes to the centre of the narrow alley, and she slowly lowered them down. She walked quickly back over toward Gigi and Voldemort, and then they waited. It felt like an eternity before an elderly Muggle woman turned the corner with shopping bags on each arm. Bellatrix eyed Gigi, who nodded firmly and said,

"Imperius her."

" _Imperio,_ " whispered Bellatrix, and green smoke puffed from her wand. It snaked through the air and socked the old woman in the face. She trembled, and Bellatrix murmured, "Go put on the shoes."

The woman dropped her shopping, sending tomatoes and haricots verts spilling all over the cobblestones. She walked right up to the shoes, and Bellatrix's heart hammered in her chest. She blinked quickly as she watched the woman step up to the shoes and slip them on, and then -

Then she was ash.

It happened with a strange sort of  _poof_. The woman just sort of dissolved into thin air. One moment she was whole and clothed, her grey hair curled, her glasses with a chain on them. The next moment, she was an outline of black ash that quickly collapsed onto itself, and then the ash fell all over the shoes.

"Vanish the shoes, Bellatrix," said Gigi, sounding entirely unaffected by what had happened. Bellatrix panted quickly and aimed her wand at the shoes, ignoring the woman's spilled shopping.

" _Evanesco._ "

The whole mess disappeared, and then it was like the woman had never existed, not ever. Bellatrix Vanished her shopping, too, and the road was clean and new again.

"Lord Voldemort," said Gigi calmly, "put your chalice on the ground and fill it with water. Imperius the next Muggle who comes by to drink of it."

Voldemort sighed but nodded, and he Levitated his chalice out into the street. He walked out there and aimed his wand down, muttering,

" _Aguamenti._ "

He staggered backward as though he were nervous, and then he jabbed his wand up, for a Muggle couple had come walking around the corner.

" _Imperio,_ " Voldemort commanded, and the spell hit the man in the couple. He began to walk quickly toward the chalice, and his wife cried out in French, asking what he was doing, why he was going to a cup in the middle of the road.

" _Pierre, arrête! Qu'est-ce que tu fais? Ne le bois pas, Pierre!_ "

But Pierre carried out, bound by his Imperius Curse. He picked up the chalice.

"Drink it," Voldemort snarled, and the French Muggle man drank deeply from the water. Then the chalice clattered to the cobblestones, and the man burst into flames. The woman behind him shrieked, screaming bloody murder as her husband was utterly immolated.

" _Aidez-moi! Aidez nous s'il vous plaît! Éteindrez le feu!_ " screamed the woman, rushing toward her burning husband. He collapsed to the ground, and the horrid smell of burning flesh filled the air. Suddenly Gigi grabbed Voldemort's arm and Bellatrix's hand and Disapparated, and they found themselves back in the blue room of Le Nichoir.

Bellatrix was breathing quickly, unable to bring herself back to baseline after that level of excitement. They had just successfully Cursed objects in a way she could have never imagined.

"Your eyes," said Gigi, and Voldemort touched at his eyes rather self-consciously.

"What about them?" he demanded roughly, and Gigi said in a gentle sort of voice,

"They flashed red."

So Bellatrix hadn't imagined it that one time, then. She smirked a bit and told him,

"You were magnificent, Master."

"Master." Gigi eyed her, then eyed Lord Voldemort. "The time traveller calls you  _Master_. I see now why it is that Aquitaine commanded us to teach you. She told us it was of critical importance, that Lord Voldemort must learn quickly and thoroughly. It can't take years this time, she said. It must happen more rapidly, so that your fiercest enemy can be defeated in time for your true success."

"My fiercest enemy," repeated Voldemort. "You mean Albus Dumbledore."

Gigi raised her eyebrows. "The man who just defeated Grindelwald? The man who just defeated the most powerful wizard Europe has ever known? He is your fiercest enemy? Perhaps there is more to you than even Aquitaine has said. I look forward to drinks tonight in Le Nichoir with the both of you. Aquitaine will be there. So will your other teachers. Join us, will you?"

"Of course," Bellatrix nodded, but she turned her face to Voldemort for permission. He nodded once.

"Of course. Thank you for the lesson, Gigi."

**Author's Note: Oh, my. So they're really learning the Dark Arts now. And they'll be having drinks with their teachers tonight. Whose lessons are up next, and what else will they learn from Gigi? Interesting, no, that Aquitaine says the learning must happen a bit more quickly this time so that they can go back to England and defeat Dumbledore? Hmmm… As always, thank you for reading and please do leave a review.**


	25. Chapter 25

"We haven't got any money - Wizarding or Muggle," Bellatrix pointed out quietly to Voldemort.

"No. But we have endless Confundus Charms," he said, and they walked into a women's clothing shop.

" _Bonsoir,_ " said the bored-looking, black-clad Muggle woman standing in the corner. Bellatrix flashed her a small smile and began fingering through the ready-to-wear dresses on the rack. The pickings were slim - this country was still at war. Clothing for sale was a rare luxury. But she eventually found a black dress made of silk, and she asked the Muggle clothing worker,

" _Est-ce utilisé? Vieux?_ " She was asking if it was old, used. She reckoned it might be, given the war on.

"It is as good as new," said the Muggle woman, tipping her chin up proudly. "Repairs have been made."

Bellatrix nodded and took it off the rack. It looked like it would fit her tiny waist, her narrow shoulders. She gave Voldemort a look of approval, and then suddenly the witch in the corner vibrated and went glassy-eyed. She smiled a bit and said,

"Enjoy ze dress. Shall I wrap it for you?"

"No, thank you," said Bellatrix. "Save the paper and the box. War on and all."

"Of course. Good day," said the woman, and Bellatrix took the dress off the hanger. She folded it over her arm and walked out of the shop with Voldemort. They moved down the street, back toward their hotel, and when they reached the hotel, the doorman opened the door for them. They passed with little nods and went by the pianist playing tunes in the corner of the lobby. They climbed up the stairs until they reached the floor where their room was, and then Voldemort opened the door to their room. He'd already Transfigured a stolen dinner napkin into black dress robes in the room, but he'd confessed to not really knowing how to make women's dresses. That was why they'd stolen the dress for Bellatrix. They walked into the hotel room and he shut the door, and Bellatrix immediately began stripping off her tie and shirt.

"You're sexy," said Voldemort, and she smirked at him as she stood in her bra and knickers, tossing her skirt away. She Transfigured her socks into silk stockings using a spell she remembered from her old life, and then she Transfigured her loafers into high-heeled black shoes. She pulled on the stolen black dress, and Tom buttoned up the back for her. He paused, kissing between her shoulder blades whilst her hair was over one shoulder.

"I made something for you," he told her, "whilst I was working on my dress robes earlier."

"You did?" She turned round, staring up at him, and he looked a little anxious. He had pulled on his elegant black dress robes now, and he reached into them and pulled something from the pocket. He grasped Bellatrix's left hand and slid something onto her left finger.

"I'm not exactly the best at… at Conjuring diamonds," he confessed, and Bellatrix's blood ran cold all of a sudden.

She stared at her left hand. She was staring at a white gold or platinum band with a beautiful oval emerald stone.

"I couldn't get the diamond right," Voldemort told her. "I hope you like the emerald. I make nice emeralds, I think."

"You make beautiful emeralds, Master," Bellatrix mumbled. She stared at the ring and raised her eyes to him.

"Are you asking me to -?"

"I'm not asking anything," he insisted. "There is a prophecy. They called you my wife. You and I are destined to be married. I am commanding you, as your master, as your lord, to fulfil that prophecy with me. Be my wife someday."

"Of course, Master," Bellatrix whispered. Her eyes welled. Suddenly she was utterly overcome by the idea of marrying  _him_ , marrying the man whose attentions she had craved with all her heart and soul for years and years in the life she had left behind.

"You would have never married me there," she said softly, and he shrugged.

"Then it's very good you've come here."

"We're expected for drinks," she reminded the both of them, swiping at her eyes, and he nodded.

"Gigi Apparated us into Le Nichoir. It seems the skull wall is optional, just like at Diagon Alley. Let's try and Apparate in. Take my hand."

She did, holding her wand and taking his left hand in her left one. She felt her cold new ring touch his skin, and she stared up at him as she whispered,

"We're to be married."

"Yes." His voice was almost stern. "Just like the prophecy says. Let's go."

* * *

"So, Bellatrix," said Bartholmieu, sipping from his wine, "Do tell me how it is that you came to know Lord Voldemort in your own time."

Bellatrix hesitated where she sat on a cushioned couch. She sipped her Champagne and said, "I'm not meant to answer questions, I don't think."

"There are no secrets here," said Aquitaine from where she sat near Voldemort. Bellatrix sighed, looking up at where Bartholmieu sat beside Emilien.

"You begin," she insisted. "When did you two meet?"

Emilien laughed a little and gripped Bartholmieu's hand.

"It's a funny story," he stated. "You see, Bartholmieu and I were both in Norway, and he was communing with dragons there. A Norwegian Ridgeback befriended him."

"Befriended you?" Bellatrix asked in disbelief, but Bartholmieu said firmly,

"They're wondrous once you get to know them. And Sval was a good friend. Until he took ill. I tried everything. Spells. Potions. I couldn't save him. He died. I needed a Necromancer. I asked an alchemist witch, a Viking woman living there in Norway, for advice, and she turned me to Emilien."

"And you resurrected his dragon?" asked Bellatrix, raising her eyebrows. Emilien smirked and shook his head.

"I was not about to break Bartholmieu's heart by turning his dragon into an Inferius. And without the Resurrection Stone, I had no easy way for them to commune again. But I… helped him through his grief."

The two wizards gave one another a very knowing look, and Bellatrix grinned, sipping her Champagne again.

"Well," she said, "I'm sorry for your loss, Bartholmieu. But glad you found Emilien. That Viking woman. How old is she?"

"At least a thousand," said Bartholmieu.

"Lord Voldemort will want to meet her," said Bellatrix insistently, and Bartholmieu nodded calmly.

"How did you meet him?"

"He was my master," Bellatrix said, deciding that Aquitaine was right and that truth reigned here. "He was very powerful in the world where I lived. He spent years on the Continent learning the Dark Arts, and he raised an army of followers called Death Eaters. I was his most loyal soldier, fighting for him in battles."

"And were you lovers there?" asked Emilien, and Bellatrix shook her head.

"No," she said. "We were not. We were… I was his servant and he was my master. And that was all."

"He is in love with you here," said Emilien. "He's put a ring on your finger."

"Only because of the prophecy," said Bellatrix, and Emilien's lips curled up.

"Do you know," he said, "Aquitaine only started referring to you as his  _wife_  about two months or so ago? Before that, you were just the time traveller? I think that him falling in love with you has changed the fates."

Bellatrix looked over her shoulder to where Voldemort sat talking with Aquitaine. He stared at her, and his eyes bored into her as if he and Aquitaine were actively discussing Bellatrix. Bellatrix played with her ring on her finger and stared up to where Gigi was standing by the merperson tank, gazing through the glass with a drink in her hand.

"We've done our first lesson with Gigi," she asked. "I have a feeling that our next lesson concerns communing with Beings."

"You're right," said Bartholmieu. "But in order to do that, we need a Dementor. And to find a Dementor to commune with, we need to take some serious risks. We need to travel somewhere specific. Somewhere Aquitaine says is a familiar place to you."

Bellatrix's lips went dry, so she wet them with Champagne and sighed as her stomach sank.

"Azkaban."

**Author's Note: So they're going to Azkaban to try and be friendly with a Dementor. What could possibly go wrong?**

**Sorry this chapter is short. I admit I'm a little discouraged today because this story has over 1,000 views and not very many reviews. That's a little dispiriting as a writer, as I'm sure you can understand. So can you do me a quick favor? If you're reading this story and enjoying it, can you take a quick moment and leave your thoughts? Thanks so much.**

**Next chapter - We learn to manipulate Dementors. Again… what could possibly go wrong? Mwah hahaha.**


	26. Chapter 26

"I don't really want to go back to Azkaban," said Bellatrix hesitantly as they stood in the blue dining room of Le Nichoir. Bartholmieu chuckled.

"Well, of course you don't. Tell me the truth. Why were you in there?"

"She cast a Cruciatus Curse," said Voldemort before Bellatrix could answer. She gave him a weighty look, as though he shouldn't say any more, but he continued, "I was missing, and she was looking for me, and so she was torturing people. And she got caught."

"She is Dark." Bartholmieu tucked Bellatrix's hair behind her ear. "Beautifully Dark. But she must go back to Azkaban, for it is there and only there that we can commune with Dementors. And doing that will allow us to gain complete control over Dark creatures and Beings of all kinds. This may become very important to you later on, Lord Voldemort. Now. I have brought us rain cloaks."

He turned to the chair behind them and passed out waterproofed, oilskinned poncho-like cloaks for each of them. Bellatrix put hers on, remembering how very often it rained at Azkaban when she was a prisoner there. She shivered a little, and suddenly Voldemort took her hand.

"This is important," he reminded her. "This is for my greatness, isn't it?"

"Yes, Master," she nodded, and Bartholmieu gestured to the elegant black sphere in the middle of the table.

"Our Portkey," he said, and Bellatrix studied the black marble. She nodded.

"It is ready whenever we touch it," said Bartholmieu. "Once we get there, I will show you how to commune with them. Ready? Three, two, one…"

Whirling, pinching, blackness. Then they landed, hard, on the ground. Azkaban was as dreary as ever. As soon as they landed, the overwhelming sense of depression and heavy weight of hopelessness began to settle in. It was raining, too; Bartholmieu had been right about that. But he stood on the rocky ravine outside of the towering prison walls, and he stared upward, and he said to Voldemort,

"You must use your mind with them. They won't speak in English. Send your thoughts to them.  _I come as a friend. I come as a Dark Ally. I come with no harm intended to you, but harm intended to others. Think this at them._  You, too, Bellatrix. Let us all think it at… that one, up there."

Bellatrix stared at the Dementor to which Bartholmieu was pointing, one hovering outside a prison window. She tried to do as he'd said. She tried to think at the Dementor.

_I come as your friend, as your Dark Ally… I come… I come with no harm…_

She couldn't think straight. All she could think of was lying in her prison cell here, and she said aloud,

"The rat was eating my gruel."

"Bella, ground yourself in the present and on the task at hand!" barked Voldemort. He was staring up at the Dementor.

"Commune with it, Lord Voldemort," said Bartholmieu, but he started backing away, a strange, frightened look upon his face. The Dementor began soaring downward, and Voldemort scowled as he appeared to be thinking very hard.

"Master, something's wrong," whined Bellatrix, falling to her knees and feeling like she would never, ever be happy again. Before she knew it, Bartholmieu had Disapparated.

"Wait!" cried Voldemort, grasping at the air where Bartholmieu had been. The Dementor was getting closer, hovering near Bellatrix now, and Voldemort appeared to be struggling to will it away. But then a trio of wizards - two middle-aged and one much younger - came sprinting round the corner of the prison in what looked like official Ministry robes.

Aurors.

Bellatrix was too weak to use her wand, too weak to rise or do anything against the pull of the Dementor. Voldemort aimed his wand at the Aurors, and suddenly spells were flying. Bellatrix collapsed to the ground, and everything went black and cold.

* * *

"Miss Lestrange? Wake up. Miss Lestrange."

Bellatrix blinked her eyes open and sat up slowly, but she found she couldn't move her hands or feet. She'd been bound with Conjured ropes to this bed. She looked around and realised where she was. St Mungo's Hospital.

"How long have I…" she began, and then she snapped her face to the pretty young witch at her bedside and demanded the more important question. "Where's Lor - Tom Riddle?"

"You have been in a Magically Induced Coma for two years. I need to you stay calm about that fact," said the young witch, and Bellatrix thrashed for a moment against her bindings. The witch continued in a strangely settled voice, "You served your sentence here, owing to the way the Dementor attacked you so thoroughly two years ago. Mr Riddle is finishing up his sentence and will be released within the next few days."

"Sentence? Sentence for what?"

"For breaking onto the grounds of Azkaban," said the witch, as though that were obvious, "and in Mr Riddle's case, for attacking Aurors who responded to the break-in."

"He's been in Azkaban for two years?" Bellatrix's eyes welled, and she began to sob. But she could do nothing to stem the flow of her tears, nothing to wipe them away, because her hands were tied up along with her feet.

"It is my understanding that you are a time traveller," said the young witch gravely, "and that you and Mr Riddle left the Continent shortly after the fall of Grindelwald because of some suspicious school belongings. I would like to inform you that the Ministry has decided at this time to return your belongings to you - yours and Mr Riddle's."

"Wh-What?" Bellatrix stared right at the witch. "And what does Dumbledore have to say about that?"

The witch tipped her head. "There is more than one person in the Wizengamot, Miss Lestrange. The consensus is that the mysterious objects found in Mr Riddle's belongings pose no immediate danger to wizardkind, and that your belongings are entirely innocuous. Initially, Mr Riddle was meant to serve a one year sentence, but that was increased to two years after a petition from…"

"From Albus Dumbledore," Bellatrix said knowingly, and the witch shrugged.

"We have been trying to pull you out of your coma for four months," she said. "You weren't responding. We were afraid that the Dementor's damage might be permanent. But you have been credited with time served. I have a set of robes here for you, along with a bag of twenty Galleons care of the Ministry to start a new life."

That sounded familiar. Bellatrix shut her eyes. How very used to all this she was becoming - used to falling asleep and waking up sometime else. She nodded and whispered,

"I'll see him again soon."

* * *

She found a small flat on Gray's Inn Road on Bloomsbury. It was a fully furnished place, Muggle-owned, and Bellatrix decided to avoid a fresh prison sentence by converting her money at Gringotts and paying the rent for real.

She spent the next three weeks apologising profusely to the grandson of Mr Shyverwretch, a young and handsome wizard who had begrudgingly taken over the shop after his grandfather had suddenly died the year before. She'd explained that she and Tom Riddle had needed to very quickly leave the country, and that she hadn't meant to leave Mr Shyverwretch high and dry, and was there any possibility of employment for her now? Perseus Shyverwretch, the grandson, assured her that there was.

"I haven't got any idea how to run this place by myself, to be honest," he said. "I need someone to help me with stock, with brewing poisons. My grandfather said you were a fair hand with potions and he was sad to lose you. You can begin work right this moment, if you like."

Perseus spent the rest of the day showing Bellatrix everything in the inventory. Weedosoros, Angel's Trumpet Draught, Distress Draught, Bloodroot Potion, Serum of Floodbang Venom, Baneberry Potion, and a number of Undetectable Poisons.

"You think you've got the hang of which bottle looks like what?" Perseus Shyverwretch smiled down at Bellatrix. She grinned back up. He was short for a wizard, with sandy blonde waves and blue eyes. He was the opposite of Lord Voldemort's appearance, Bellatrix thought. And he was standing awfully close. He smelled like licorice, Bellatrix thought. She cleared her throat and moved away a little, realising that whilst she'd been sleeping and it had seemed like no time at all had passed since she'd seen him, Lord Voldemort had lived two years without her. Two years in Azkaban. What did he think of her now, she wondered?

She didn't have to wait long to find out.

The door on the poison shop opened, and Perseus Shyverwretch gasped a little as a gaunt but handsome-looking Lord Voldemort came walking inside. He was in a plain, dark grey robe, obviously given to him by the Ministry upon his discharge from Azkaban. Had he come straight here, Bellatrix wondered?

Suddenly her right hand flew to her left one, and she felt that her emerald ring was still there. They hadn't taken that from her when they'd put her into a coma. Would he still view them as engaged? She watched his eyes go there, to her left hand, then raise up to her face.

"Hello, Bella," he said simply. "I've missed you terribly. Mr Shyverwretch, if it's all right with you, I'd like to go home and talk with Miss Lestrange."

"Y-Yes, of course, Mr Riddle," stammered Perseus, and he whispered, "See you tomorrow, Bellatrix."

"Tomorrow. Of course." Bellatrix nodded, and she squeezed his sleeve. "Thank you again, Mr Shyverwretch."

"Perseus, please," he said. Bellatrix nodded again and hurried out of the shop with Voldemort. They stood out in Knockturn Alley, and he blinked a few times.

"Two years," he said, and she suddenly saw the age written in his face. Age and fatigue. What they'd done to him in Azkaban. He was still devastatingly handsome, but he was older. Was she older, too? He reached for her jaw, his hand shaking. "Two years."

"I was sleeping the whole while," Bellatrix shrugged. "The Dementor attacked me, so they put me into a Magically-induced coma for two years to serve my sentence. And you?"

"Me?" Voldemort smirked a little and pulled a small drawstring bag from inside his robe. "Gigi saw to it that some books were smuggled to me. Important books. I've got thirty books inside this Expanded bag. I spent two years studying, Bellatrix. And now I'm ready. Let's go home and talk. I assume you've taken care of the  _home_  bit. Take me there."

**Author's Note: O.M.G. Am I right? We are probably getting to the last segment of this story, just so everyone is prepared! Thanks for reading and reviewing!**


	27. Chapter 27

"Thank goodness for Magically-induced comas," said Voldemort as he paced in the small sitting room. "You were able to move straight away after they woke you?"

"Move. Eat. Talk. Breathe. Everything. I suppose they use spells to keep your body alert, to get rid of waste and all of that, whilst you're in a coma," Bellatrix said. "I had no idea when I woke that two years had passed. My body felt exactly the same. But I don't understand. Master, when I collapsed on the ground at Azkaban, Bartholmieu Disapparated. Did he betray us?"

"Betray us? No!" Voldemort seemed shocked by the very suggestion. "No. No, he got out and we didn't. But he went back to Paris, and Gigi put dozens of books into an Expanded bag for me when she and Bartholmieu heard that I had been imprisoned. Bartholmieu came back. He communed with the Dementors to allow him to smuggle materials into my room. But they would not let him leave with me. He tried. He did try."

"And what happened to him?" Bellatrix asked, feeling unsure. Voldemort shrugged.

"He vanished. I'm assuming he made it out again. I had the bag of books. I remembered what he told me just before he Disapparated the first time. Commune with them in your mind, as if speaking to them through Legilimency. I did my best, Bella, to speak with them, with the Dementors. I did my best to convince them to leave me alone. But I never could get them to let me leave. I could never quite convince them of that. But I could stave off the depression, the crushing weight of sorrow and grief."

He stopped and turned to Bellatrix then and paused.

"Even as I learnt from the books, I worried over you. I thought of you every single day. Every hour of every day, Bella, I thought of you. I wanted you with me. I… I mourned the presence of you."

"But I am here now, Master!" She flew to her feet and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. He seemed a little taller, somehow, despite the paltry feedings he would have received in Azkaban. "Tell me. What did you learn from your books?"

"I learnt all about making Inferi," Voldemort told her. "I learnt more about Cursing objects. I learnt about Dark wandlore, about using Severing Charms in combat. I memorised every single Jinx, Hex, and Curse that's ever been known to wizardkind. I learnt about Regeneration Potions to grow back a body from the ether. I learnt about Draughts of Misery and poisons of all sorts. I learnt about Dark Beasts and Beings and how to commune with them. I learnt everything, Bellatrix. Everything."

She didn't know what to say to that. She was amazed. So Bartholmieu hadn't betrayed them. He had helped sneak books in to Voldemort in Azkaban and had even tried to help Voldemort escape. Meanwhile, Bellatrix had been cared for in St Mungo's so that when she woke, it would be as though no time at all had passed. She gulped and asked Voldemort,

"Are you and I still…?"

"Engaged to be married? Of course we are," he said, as though it were obvious. He picked up her left hand and scoffed. "I can't believe they let you keep your ring."

"Neither can I." Bellatrix raised her eyebrows. "They've told me that they're going to send us our belongings from school. Dumbledore fought them on it, but they think we've served our time. And they couldn't figure out what was wrong with your diary, it would seem. They couldn't figure out that it was a Horcrux. So they're giving it back, against Dumbledore's wishes."

"When?" Voldemort's lips went pale, and Bellatrix shrugged.

"I don't know. It's been a few days. I sent this address to the Ministry for registration yesterday by owl. I'm sure it'll be soon, Master."

"Bella." Voldemort dragged his teeth over his bottom lip and whispered, "It's May, isn't it? Almost the end of school term."

"Yes," said Bellatrix carefully. "Why?"

"Because," said Voldemort in a serious tone, "Once the school year ends and Hogwarts gets quiet, I want to sneak into the school through Hogsmeade and ambush Albus Dumbledore. And then I want to kill him."

* * *

"You're certain that's a passage?" asked Bellatrix.

"We'd already told Grindelwald about Gregory the Smarmy when I learnt about it from Abraxas Malfoy," said Voldemort from where he lay in the bed. "There's a mirror on the wall at the back of Madam Pudifoot's that opens with three wand taps on its left side. We can break in there at night. It leads by tunnel to the deserted classroom next to the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom on the third floor."

"Then how do we lure Albus Dumbledore out for a fight?" asked Bellatrix, and Voldemort hesitated.

"I think," he said, "that there is a portrait of Heliotrope Wilkins in both the Headmaster's Office and the Grand Staircase. We can make our way to the Grand Staircase and tell Heliotrope Wilkins to bring us Albus Dumbledore. And then we fight him."

"But, Master," protested Bellatrix, "He'll defeat me. Look at how he defeated Grindelwald. Even with two of us in a duel, he -"

"No, wait… you're right. We can't take him in a duel." Voldemort put his hands behind his head and shut his eyes. He chewed his lip hard and said, "I need to recruit someone to deliver something to him. A Cursed object. An end-of-term gift. Abraxas' younger brother, Flavius. He could give a boxed gift to Dumbledore that would turn him to ash when he touched it."

"Perfect!" Bellatrix sat up in bed and squeezed at Voldemort's shoulders. "Just like we practiced with Gigi."

"Ah, yes. I remember that." He looked as though he were remembering something very distant, something in the long past, and Bellatrix's smile vanished. Two years had passed for him, but not for her. She licked her lip and asked him,

"Do you remember me?"

"Of course I do," he insisted, but Bellatrix bent down and brushed her lips against his.

"No. Do you  _remember_  me, Master?"

"Of course I do." He rolled her onto her back and hiked up the skirt of her short black nightgown. He cupped one breast in his hand and sighed shakily against her lips. "Of course I do."

* * *

"How do I look?" asked Voldemort, and Bellatrix stifled a little laugh as she said,

"You look like Perseus Shyverwretch."

He scowled. "I don't like the way that boy looks at you, or thinks about you."

"Master." Bellatrix put her hands on his chest, but it felt odd, with his blond hair and blue eyes. Her own hair had been Transfigured into wild red curls with green eyes and vibrant freckles. She was tall and broad now. The two of them nodded and walked into the Three Broomsticks, where they had agreed to meet with Flavius Malfoy. They went to the table in the corner, where it had been agreed that Flavius would meet them, and they took a seat. Now all they had to do was wait. The Hogwarts students and staff began to file in slowly, and Bellatrix's breath hitched when she saw Albus Dumbledore come in and calmly sit down with a few of the other professors at a table on the other side of the pub. But he didn't suspect anything, or at least he didn't seem to.

"Hullo," said Flavius Malfoy, sliding onto the wooden bench opposite Bellatrix and Voldemort. He reached beneath the table, holding out his open leather rucksack, and Voldemort slipped in the wrapped striped box containing a brass pocket-watch that had been Cursed with an Ashes to Ashes Curse.

"Do not touch that watch yourself, Flavius," said Voldemort. "No matter what you do, do not touch that pocket-watch. You do realise the risk involved in all this."

"My father says that doing this will bring the family great glory," whispered Flavius. "My father says that if I do this, the Malfoys will live on in infamy of all the right ways. I will gladly take whatever punishments they hand me -"

"You're twelve, Flavius," Bellatrix hissed. "The important thing is that you maintain that you bought the watch as a gift in Borgin and Burkes and wrapped it yourself. They won't use truth serum on a twelve-year-old. We've already Confounded Caractacus Burke. You bought the watch as a gift in Borgin and Burkes and wrapped it yourself."

"Right. Got it," said Flavius, looking green. "They won't use truth serum on a twelve-year-old."

* * *

_ALBUS DUMBLEDORE MURDERED AT HOGWARTS END-OF-TERM FEAST!_

_Albus Dumbledore, beloved for defeating Gellert Grindelwald just two years ago, is dead! Murdered at the End-of-Term Feast at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Albus Dumbledore was known as a powerful and benevolent wizard loved by almost all who encountered his fearsome and accomplished persona._

_Dumbledore was given several gifts by students at the feast, and, as was his tradition, he opened the gifts as the students gave them to him. All went well, through a silk scarf and a new pet Puffskein, until he reached a gift given to him by first-year student Flavius Malfoy. Upon opening the gift, Dumbledore encountered a brass pocket-watch. He pulled it out and began to thank Flavius, but immediately turned to ash, utterly horrifying the Great Hall full of students and staff._

_A massive panic broke out as people realised what had happened. Flavius Malfoy was immediately taken into custody and questioned, and he insisted that he had purchased the pocket-watch at Borgin and Burkes and that he had touched it himself. Borgin and Burkes owner Caractacus Burke confirmed that the gift had been purchased by Flavius Malfoy over the Easter holidays and that he'd intended it as a gift for Dumbledore. Questioned as to whether he knew that the pocket-watch was Cursed, Burke said he knew only that it was an antique. Under truth serum questioning, his insistence held up._

_Still, this appears to be no accident. To have Albus Dumbledore turn to ash in front of an entire Hall full of staff and student can surely not be an accident of fate. In this reporter's opinion, someone intended for Dumbledore to die on the day of the End-of-Term Feast. Someone intended for Dumbledore to turn to ash, like his renowned phoenix Fawkes. Only, unlike a phoenix, Albus Dumbledore will not be rising again._

**Author's Note: Poor Flavius Malfoy, roped into murdering Albus Dumbledore! Now what? Voldemort's offed Dumbledore, he's got Bellatrix back, and he's ready to begin recruiting and living life as Lord Voldemort. As I said, this story is nearing its end, so we'll be wrapping things up here shortly.**


	28. Chapter 28

ONE YEAR LATER

"My old friends," said Lord Voldemort, looking around the table at those who had come to his meeting. Mulciber, Avery, Nott, Lestrange, Malfoy, Crabbe, Goyle, Rosier… all his old school friends were there. Voldemort folded his hands on the table at Malfoy Manor and said,

"Abraxas, thank your father Caeso again for me for allowing us this space to meet."

"It's no problem, Tom," said Abraxas, but Bellatrix piped up,

"There is no more  _Tom_."

Silence fell.

"There is no more Tom," repeated Voldemort. "There is only Lord Voldemort. I have served my time in Azkaban, and during that time, I have learnt more than any of you could ever imagine learning."

"What have you learnt, erm… Lord Voldemort?" asked Avery meekly, and Voldemort corrected him,

"You may call me  _My Lord._ "

Silence fell again. Uneasy glances were exchanged. Voldemort said simply,

"I learned to raise the dead. I learned, Avery, to kill Albus Dumbledore."

Now everyone looked frantically at one another, and Crabbe piped up,

"I knew it was you! I knew you were the one to off 'im! Good on you!"

"We do not revel so mightily in the deaths of our enemies, Crabbe; it is uncouth," said Voldemort smoothly, dragging his fingers over the shiny table. "Dumbledore has been gone a year. Lestrange has taken his place as Transfigurations professor. We have an  _in_  at Hogwarts now. Rosier, you're working in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. We have an  _in_  at the Ministry now."

"Pardon me, erm, My - My Lord, but…  _we_?" asked Nott, and Bellatrix peeled back the sleeve on her left arm. Voldemort peeled back his own sleeve and touched his wand to the Dark Mark he'd figured out how to put on himself. His and hers both seared black, and they hissed in pain. Around the table, jaws dropped open, and Abraxas Malfoy asked,

"What sort of tattoo is  _that?_ "

"It is the Dark Mark," said Voldemort. "In school, you were all my friends, the Knights of Walpurgis. Today, here, I ask you for far more loyalty than you could ever give me in Slytherin. Today, here, I ask you to become a secret army on my behalf. My Death Eaters."

There was a ripple of excitement at that. Death Eaters. People seemed to like the sound of that.

"And what will we do, as Death Eaters?" asked Rudy Lestrange. Bellatrix thought it was strange; Rodolphus would be born in just a few years time. Ivy Greengrass would be dead in months. And, yet, the world she'd left behind seemed an eternity away from here. This was her life now.

"The Death Eaters will serve the Dark Lord," she said, "by bringing him information and undermining the systems currently in place. As we grow stronger, battles will occur, and we will need to fight for all we are worth. In the life I left behind, I was a Death Eater. I was a proud Death Eater. I fought for Lord Voldemort with all my heart and soul, and I went to Azkaban for it. Is there anyone here who does not value wizardkind enough to trust Lord Voldemort? I trust him with my life, and I have for decades."

"I trust him," said Abraxas Malfoy, rising to his feet. "Mark me, My Lord. I beg it of you."

"Mark me, too, Master!" cried Rudy Lestrange, standing. One by one, the old school friends called out for the Dark Mark. One by one, they received it. The meeting was dismissed after that, with vows of secrecy being promised.

In the empty meeting room, Bellatrix squealed and dashed toward Voldemort, throwing her arms around him and whispering,

"You'll do it all. You'll do everything and so much more. Everything I saw you do, only so much better."

"Everything and so much more." He took her left hand in his and brought her fingers to his lips to kiss. "They called you my wife in Paris."

"They did." Bellatrix slowly moved into a dancing stance with him, and though there was no music, they began to sway, a celebratory two-step. She smiled up at him and whispered, "You'll be the Dark Lord again, only this time Dumbledore isn't in your way. There's nothing in your way to stop you. You'll be everything. Master, you will rule everything and -"

"They called you my wife in Paris," he murmured, lowering his lips to hers. "There was prophecy after prophecy about us. Our time there would be brief, and onward to learn we would go. Lord Voldemort and his time travelling wife. You were sent here to warn me, Bellatrix, and you've done that. You were sent here to be by my side."

"I will be by your side, Master," she replied softly. "Always."

"Then fulfill the prophecy, Bellatrix," he said, and the Dark Lord bent to kiss her - the one they'd called his wife.

**THE END**

**Author's Note: I know, I know, I know. This is a very abrupt ending to this story. I have a lot of personal stuff going on at the moment that isn't really allowing me to write the way I want to, and due to some medication changes (yay mental health) my head just isn't in the writing game at the moment. I did want to tie up the loose ends as best I as I could. I hope you've enjoyed this story and I promise to get back to writing Bellamort as soon as my stupid brain will allow it. Thanks for reading, all.**


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